From the time I was very little, Dad terrified the hell out of me. Whatever I did or didn’t do only made him so very angry with me. I wasn’t safe being me. I was constantly on edge, always so tense. Mom got that Dad scared me to my soul. She said, “Slow down, Jonny.”
Yet, being 7 years old and being young and stupid, I got angry at my late Mom for saying that. Perhaps, my greatest regret in life was getting angry at Mom. To this day, that still makes me sick to my stomach. Out of Mom’s unconditional love for me, she took my shit. I got angry at Mom, because I couldn’t get mad at Dad. Because that would go very badly. You get what I’m saying.
I was the complete disappointment for Dad. I wasn’t the son that he wanted. I got no love from Dad. I got no love from myself, either. That sourced my hating on me. I chose that painful path ahead.
Fortunately, I learned to love myself for who I am and forgive myself for who I’m not. That was literally my 50-year journey. Loving and forgiving mine own self is my path to end suffering in life. Just saying.
As a little boy, I was so very sad. I thought that being sad was weak. Maybe if I were angry, at least that’s being strong. Again, I was young and stupid. After years of Aikido training and transformational work, I got that anger doesn’t heal anything. It only makes the suffering worse.
When I was about 25 years old, I decided: I’m not going to be a father. Yes, being a father meant that I would be a husband, and would be married. At least back in my day. Through high school and college, I was the short, fat, unattractive geek. Given how I looked, I gave up on meeting a pretty girl. When I was older, I got in shape. Still, I was short and not handsome. Dating a woman, getting married wasn’t really in the realm of possibility for me. Just saying.
I didn’t want to make my own children suffer the way that Dad made me suffer. I knew that I had to be different from Dad. Although not having a visceral role model for a father, becoming a good father seemed nearly impossible. In my heart, I feared that I might become what I despised most, become my Dad. I would never forgive myself if I was the source of pain and suffering for my children, for my son, even with my best intentions. I would forsake being a father altogether. The world didn’t need another abusive parent. Unfortunately, there were enough of those to go around.
My late Dad was who he was, not of his own doing. Years later, I worked to heal my childhood trauma and depression with my therapist Lance. I don’t forgive Dad for his cruelty to my Mom, my sister Carol, and me. I do forgive Dad for being imperfectly human, for being afraid in not knowing how to raise me. As bad as it was for me, Dad had suffered far worse from his Dad. The tragic legacy of abusive parenting.
Dad did to me what his Dad had done to him. Really, he didn’t know any better. No, that’s not a legit excuse although it is imperfectly human. I forgive that. Along the path, I evolved compassion for Dad. I learned to love him, too.
A few years ago, Dad passed away from heart disease. I was able to share the great love of his life: fishing. For about 17 years, we spent a week together in Kenai, Alaska fishing for salmon. Dad loved fishing for sockeye salmon on the banks of the Kenai River.
In my eulogy for Dad, I said, “I would like to think that Dad is now fishing at his favorite spot on the banks of the Kenai River. That he is happy. That he is at peace…” Rest in peace, Dad. “And flights of angels sing thee to thy rest…”
On the journey, I met the late Mizukami Sensei, who became a father to me. For over 25 years, Sensei taught me Aikido. He taught me what it is to be a good man, to be of service to others. He always saw the greater-than version of me that I had not yet distinguished.
I’m Godan (5th degree black belt), because of Sensei. I have the honor and privilege of teaching Aikido to boys, helping them become good men. I taught Aikido to 14-year-old Adam. Adam was a good student, but he got so angry at himself for making mistakes, for not being perfect. I was Adam when I was 14. I was teaching myself. The kindness and patience that I missed from Dad as boy, I gave that to Adam. As Adam advanced and got older, I said, “Remember, use your powers for good, not evil.” That was my way of saying: I love you, Adam.
Adam made Shodan (1st degree black belt) just before he was 18 years old. I couldn’t have been prouder of my own son. When Adam graduated high school his mom, Joyce, asked us to write a letter to Adam as his graduation gift. I wrote, “I will never be a father. That ship had sailed long, long ago. Though, if I could have had a son, that would be you. I’m proud of you. I love you.”
Today, Adam has his PhD in linguistics and works in Los Angeles. We contacted each other recently during the COVID-19 pandemic. We’ll get together soon.
Many years ago, I had forsaken being a father for fear that I might cause my son suffering. Over the years, I’ve taught Aikido to young men like Adam, Lukas, and Kurt. They have all grown into good men. I’m proud of them. I love them. No, I’m not a father. I have no children, no son of my own. Still, I’ve been privileged to guide young men to become the best versions of themselves.
In the bigger picture, it’s kind of funny how my life turned out. I’m not a father. I have no children of my own. Yet, I’ve been blessed and honored to be able to make a difference for a generation of young men to become good men. I have only the utmost mad love and respect for them. Honestly, I could not have asked for anything more. Just saying. Amen.
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