A Different Type of Father

A few days ago I was watching an episode of ‘The Wonder Years.’ Yeah, that 90’s show about a teenager growing up in the 70s, a show that redefined how coming of age vignettes were portrayed on TV.

I couldn’t help but think how limited and ineffective was the communication between the protagonist, Kevin Arnold, and his father Jack.

I immediately tried to draw a parallel between the show’s father and son’s relational dynamics, and the relationship I have with my own father. Even though I can’t say they are polar opposites, I’m lucky to say that my relationship with my father is much closer and strong than the one of this show’s protagonist with his fictional dad.

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When I was a little kid, I could only tell how much my father cared about me and how strong the bond was. I didn’t have any other parameters to compare or measure against. However, the more I grow up, learned, and meet new people, the more I realize how uniquely my father performed his role and how different he was from other people’s fathers I’ve met.

Some people say that to be good, one needs to learn from a good source. Have a good reference, a mentor, or a role model. The way I think about this statement is conflicting with the perception I have of my father because he didn’t a father figure for most of his life. In fact, my father’s father died in a car crash when my father was only nine years old.

I guess this was the secret sauce, the key to being the father he was (and still is as of today). Having that blank slate, not really having a solid role model to emulate, or any paradigms or parameters to follow, he became the ideal father to me. I assume, he based that on the kind of father he would have liked to have himself.

My parents divorced when I was only one year old.

He remarried very soon, and I lived with my mom for almost 13 years. So, I really don’t have a crystal clear memory of ever seeing my parents together. What I have a lot of memories, though, is of my father always being there for me.

He and my mother established an agreement where he would always be welcome to see me. He didn’t live far away from all the different places I lived with her, so he would frequently visit me.

Growing up, in this one-of-a-kind establishment considered by many a “dysfunctional family,” in my opinion, allowed me to have a much closer relationship with my father than a lot of people I know who grew up in standard, traditional, “functional” families do.

For most children of divorced or separated parents I’ve met, the relationship with at least one, if not both of the parents, is complicated and sometimes turbulent. The more people I’ve met who grew up in similar situations to mine, the more I am grateful to realize that unlike them, my father was always present, and always displaying his own parenting style.

Unlike other parents the same age as him, I remember my father would always get with the times, and keep his inner youth spirit intact despite the years passing. It is of him that I learned to live on your own terms, fearlessly, and not just fit in the mold, or blend in the crowd.

These are lessons that he didn’t teach me by telling, but by doing. He would always lead by example. Walking the talk. And the things he wouldn’t do or were not aligned with his values, he wouldn’t try to impose or push them.

In most things I saw him doing, he would stand out from the crowd and almost appear to do the opposite.

He would drive a motorcycle when he got tired of the car traffic. He gave a shot at starting his own startup after his small business, a car workshop, got bankrupt. Even after failing, he would stay true to his own values and pursue his vision. He would consider himself a free thinker, and independent.

Years later, when I read books like the “4 Hour Workweek” and the “Millionaire Fastlane,” I realized that many of the concepts outlined in the book, which the authors explained as groundbreaking and new to the majority of people, the common denominator, were ideas and philosophies that my father lived and breathed.

Being 23 now, I look back, with wonder, at how he didn’t stick to paradigms or stereotypes in his parenting style, but instead, he created his own, with his own rules — no constraints and no need to copy others.

Growing up, it was brought to my attention that most guys I’ve met seem to have been raised with a similar set of rules: being good at sports no questions asked, being “tough” (or doing your best at looking the part), acting like a man, going to the gym, getting the girls, etc.

By watching typical films and TV series, I’ve realized that this is just the way some parents raise their sons. Without questioning if this is even the way it should be.

On the contrary, I never fit in with this mold and while I was growing up, I always struggled to fit in because I never stuck to any “scripted”, predetermined way of doing things, but instead, I did my own thing, exploring my own interests, unexplored areas, etc.

As I grew up and became more analytical and introspective, I have realized that my father was a big influence on how I am today.

When I was 13, my mother got remarried and I went to live with my father and his second wife. This was a turning point in my life because I got to bond even more with him, and adopt some of his habits and philosophies, whether I was aware of it or not.

If there is something that I will always remember, is that he was very approachable. He would always be available and was not afraid of opening up emotionally or reveal his thoughts and ponderations to me.

He was not judgmental when I would express an opinion, and he would not try to tell me what to think. Most importantly, he would not spare physical affection and tell me that he loved me.

Being a car mechanic by trade, beer-drinker, having a mustache and beard, and an overall manly appearance, he wouldn’t be afraid of opening up to me and offering me emotional support so he could overdeliver as a father. ‘

Another thing I really admire from him is that being passionate about car mechanics, extreme sports, and motocross, he never pushed or tried to make me follow his way. Instead, he praised my talent and fearlessness when I decided to pursue my passions for theatre and dance in my last years of school as well as in college.

Looking back, I think that he set the bar very high as a father, at least to me. Which makes me question if I would ever be as dedicated and nurturing as he was if I was a father, and if I should not take this into account and, as he did, do my own and give my own take on parenting the day I decide to become a dad.

What I know for a fact, and is something that makes me glad, is that in my generation, a lot of young male parents are redefining what being a father is, taking down stereotypes, being more vulnerable, and not being afraid of opening up emotionally when their children need them to.