Even in my most desperate moments, when I was ready to embrace religion, I still couldn’t figure out which one I belonged to.
“What religion are you?” my 14-year-old son, Seamus, asked me the other night, as we were driving home from an ice cream shop. His mother and I have been divorced since he was 6 months old. He’s grown up a strict Catholic, serving as an altar boy, going on a mission to Haiti, and now attending a Jesuit high school under his mom’s watchful Irish-Catholic eye.
“Buddhist,” I quipped in response to his question, as Moose Tracks dripped from our cones onto our fingers.
“Really?”
“Nah, I just have read a lot about it and done my share of meditation. So it’s the best answer I have at the moment.”
Seamus was satisfied enough with my answer to finish his cone. But his question stayed with me.
♦♦♦
The next morning I got up early and looked out my bathroom window. A cold front had come through overnight, and after days of
soupy fog and humidity, the air had finally turned clear and cool. A full moon, shining a vibrant white over the Atlantic Ocean, hung perfectly in the frame of the window.
A couple hours later, I took Penny, our 4-month-old yellow lab, for a walk. She sniffed clumps of grass, chased small birds, and tried to lick a toddler who ambled by, while I thought more about Seamus’ question.
I was born a Quaker, 10th generation on my dad’s side, going all the way back to Timothy Matlack, who is said to have been the scribe who put the words to the Declaration of Independence on paper. But Timothy wasn’t much of a Quaker. He was kicked out of meetings for betting on cock fights, bear baiting (where, just for sport, you chain a bear to a stake and then unleash waves of dogs to attack it), and participating in the Revolutionary War, against the protests of his pacifist relatives.
My parents were hyper-intellectual hippies whose Quaker faith was more about protesting the Vietnam War than finding God. At least that’s how it seemed to me as a young child. While I respect what Quakers stand for, I don’t identify myself as a Quaker.
I am more of a Timothy type of Matlack. I became CFO of a big company, and then a venture capitalist, as my own form of rebellion against my do-good parents. In the process, I got myself into a heap of trouble participating in my own version of bear baiting—as a drunk with an proclivity for bad behavior. I eventually wound up on my knees, pleading for God’s—any god’s—intervention.
Even in my most desperate moments, when I was ready to embrace religion, I still couldn’t figure out which one I belonged to.
♦♦♦
But now I know.
I have Seamus, with whom I share a secret handshake ending in a father-son jumping chest bump. I also have a 5-year-old son, Cole, who climbs into bed with me before my eyes are even open and spews whole paragraphs about Batman without stopping for air. And I have a teenage daughter, Kerry, who, despite her shy temperament, performs in her school plays with so much ease and pleasure that she moves the audience to tears and laughter every time.
My wife, the most beautiful woman I know, tickles me when she thinks I am being arrogant and rubs my feet after particularly long days. I can ride my bike down the huge hill near our house and scream at the top of my lungs, not caring if anyone hears me. And some mornings, the moon appears in the frame of my window just for me.
This is what I am. I have no idea what you call it. But I believe in all of this. None of it is an accident. This is my religion.
♦ ♦ ♦
Tom Matlack, together with James Houghton and Larry Bean, published an anthology of stories about defining moments in men’s lives — The Good Men Project: Real Stories from the Front Lines of Modern Manhood. It was how the The Good Men Project first began. Want to buy the book? Click here. Want to learn more? Here you go.
About Tom Matlack
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Tom, I really liked reading your article and it brought up fond memories of my kids and the small things that are so special. Life goes by fast young man … I’m happy that you’re taking the time to savor these moments with your kids. I want to take a moment and talk about faith and will share a true story in another post.
I’m a very devoted Catholic and am very active in my church, Through my years, there were times that I struggled with denominational issues but I look back and find that all these struggles mad me the man I am today. I didn’t blindly stay in my faith. That being said, “religion” is one thing, “faith” is another. Catholics are great when it comes to their knowledge of the religion/church but studies show that they suck when it comes to their spirituality. I totally believe in my faith but more importantly, have a relationship with God. It’s that relationship that makes me a better person, not my being a Catholic. A priest at a church I belonged to in Texas once said that it’s better that the Catholic church dwindles down to a population of 200 and have those devoted 200 connected spiritually to God then to have the millions that are Catholics by name only.
As a Catholic, I have enjoyed experiencing several different denominations. In fact my Catholic kids attended a Methodist youth group until they got into high school. A couple of years ago I had a Muslim client whose parents were very engrained in their faith. I read up on the faith and made sure that the guy didn’t pull the wool over my eyes when it came to Ramadan.
I have been where you are but where I am now is that what I have, all the joys that I’ve been given are blessing in my life. And no matter how you want to look at it, all the different experiences in faith that you’ve had, no matter what you believe in today, influenced you as to who you are today.
Family is the greatest gift in the world and I thank you for realizing how great it is to be a dad.
When my daughter was born, my life changed. I couldn’t believe the feeling I felt. Through the years, she was known as my “punkin.” I worked a lot back then but when I would get home, she and I had a routine. During the pre-school years, she would sit on my lap and we’d watch her favorite movie Marry Poppins. By the time the movie would get to the old lady on the church steps and sing “Feed The Birds”, she would be falling asleep and I would take her up to bed.. 20 years later, my dreaded moment came to fruition … she was getting married. My punking was grown up and leaving. I made it through the day without breaking down, even when I saw her in her wedding dress for the first time or when I gave her away at the alter, I managed not to fall apart.
At the reception, The DJ announced the father daughter dance. My daughter and I went to the dance floor and the music started. It was “Feed The Birds.” She laid her head on my shoulder and said, “I remembered daddy … thank you, I love you.” Even as I write this I’m welling up.
All those little moments that you may think are nothing, are in fact something. Cherish the moments with your family. Time goes by very fast and before you know it, the kids are grown. In my case, I have the most beautiful wife of 37 years. She is my soul mate and I’ve known her since I was 11 years old. Empty nesters now, we have a great life together. We live in a very old house and I have an open stair case where I have no less then 150 photos of various sizes of our life. Every night I take a moment an look at the blessings God has given me.
Thank you again for your article.