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See the author’s TEDx Talk on Creating Extraordinary Intimacy in a Shut Down World
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No matter what kind of a dad we were in the past we can choose to be great starting right now…
28 years ago my life changed forever when my daughter Jacqueline was born, the first of two children. Honestly, when I got married I had serious doubts about even having children. The family I was raised in (a total of 10 siblings) served as a prime example as to why some couples have no business being parents. I was in no hurry to repeat my Dad’s paternal mistakes and, quite frankly, too ferociously focused on making my own mark in the world. A relentless drive that would only be hamstrung by the incessant needs of little ones crying for attention. So it is with great irony yet no hesitation that I can say my children are my greatest contribution to a world that desperately needs good people.
Not Bad is Not Good Enough
As dads, our actions in how we help raise our children literally affect many future generations. What we impart to our progeny tends to be highly inheritable regardless of whether those qualities are positive or negative. Fortunately, I was able to eschew most of my father’s iron-fisted dictatorial “It’s my way or I’ll put you through the wall.” approach to better parenting. However, my existentially-driven pursuit to be better than everyone else more out of fear than aspiration to help others (a trait picked up directly from my father) caused me to be less of a dad than what my kids really needed. I was not a bad dad but that did not make me good one either.
Being an entrepreneur I worked 14 – 18 hours a day, seven days a week building our businesses. I was frankly scared shitless that if I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to support our growing family and provide them with a good, safe place to live and top-flight education. There were times when their mother would ask me to take off just one day a month to spend with the family. A request more often refused than not out of fear that I would otherwise not be able to provide, or as much as I loath to admit it, live up to my self-preservational full potential. While I was certainly dedicated to their physical well-being, I also saw the responsibility of fatherhood as a millstone around my neck holding me back from achieving my “true purpose”.
While I was certainly dedicated to their physical well-being, I also saw the responsibility of fatherhood as a millstone around my neck holding me back from achieving my “true purpose”.
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When we went on vacations I mostly checked out by sleeping a good part of the time or reading a book. I remember one time during a trip to the beautiful White Mountain region of New Hampshire my then 12-year-old son Max wanted to go fishing. So I took him to one of the picturesque rivers in the area and proceeded to read a book as he figured out how to hook the bait and cast the line by himself. I can still see the look of disappointment and dejection on his face and very much feel the pain of a lost tender moment of connection with my only son. A moment of bonding and gentle mentoring that all boys deeply crave from their fathers that I failed to provide. One of many moments lost but still remembered as I write this through a veil of tears and deep regret. I never physically abused my kids, I provided for all their physical and educational needs and even read to them most evenings. Yet I envied those other dads who were somehow able to spend way more time with their kids and witness the delight and satisfaction on the faces of their little ones when they connected this way.
I wasn’t a bad dad, and I wasn’t a great one either.
It’s Never Too Late
Fast-forward 12 years as we celebrate my son’s 24th birthday today, the day before Father’s Day. Somehow, the coincidence of these two important dates seems anything but. Now, both of my kids are young adults who have successfully transitioned into the world of self-reliance and are truly outstanding human beings (inherent bias notwithstanding). They are very much their own individuals and not merely an extension of me (thank God!) and I am so deeply proud of how they both show up as wonderful, loving, compassionate human beings. Can a father ask for anything more? When I think of Father’s Day, this is what it is about, not any particular contribution I have made to them. This is not about me –it never really was.
Thanks to a radical choice I made five years ago that completely transformed how I show up as a man, I am no longer that disconnected, driven individual singularly focused on his own needs. I now connect more deeply with my daughter and son than ever before. Be their willing mentor at the ready to share whatever hard-won wisdom as needed and only when they are open to receiving it. It is only during these last few years that I can genuinely say I’ve finally become the great dad they have always needed and deserved.
Whatever sins of our parenting past, we can choose to become great dads right now, this very moment.
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My father was not a monster (despite my being terrified of him most of my childhood). He was simply a product of his times who lived and acted with full integrity of his beliefs even under the harshest of circumstances. But this is the way it works, no? Ideally, each generation sheds a bit more of the unconsciousness from which we are collectively waking up. Without a shred of doubt, my son will be a much better dad than I ever was. As will his son, and so on.
The good news is that we don’t have to wait for that. Whatever sins of our parenting past, we can choose to become great dads right now, this very moment. For me, this simply means really being there for them, giving them the benefit of whatever insights I’ve picked up during my time on this planet and giving them the freedom to blossom in their own way. Essentially, unconditional love and support without reservation or judgement while celebrating their uniqueness. And being there, fully and completely when they need it.
There was a recent story on NPR about a Marine deployed to Iraq in 2005 when his son Sebastian was only a toddler. Upon his return Sebastian didn’t recognize him and was naturally afraid of him. Like so many other returning war vets, his dad had a hard time adjusting to civilian life. He ended up divorced and even homeless for a while which made it nearly impossible to be the father Sebastian needed.
He now has a home where his kids come to visit him regularly. When asked by the NPR interviewer what does it mean to be a dad, Sebastian recalled a sign on the wall at his school which read:
God took the calmness of a mountain, the warmness of a sun, and tons of other stuff, and put it into one together, and called it a dad.
What better definition for a great dad? One which is never too late for all of us less-than-perfect dads to incorporate right now, this very moment and never look back.
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Image: DepositPhotos.com