Happy Father’s Day to all our Dads out there. Here’s hoping that your day consists of letting your kids make a messy burger for you, and tossing back a brew or two. Fathers make the world right. They are our first superhero, they chase away monsters, fix our bikes, teach us to play ball while throwing in lessons about practice, hard work, fair play, teamwork, sportsmanship, getting up when you’re knocked down – all while we think we are just throwing a ball around for fun. Then come the tougher times. Helping with homework, channeling that energetic young person’s energy into something constructive, yet firmly dealing with the problems of the not so constructive application of a kid’s energy and talents. Teaching us to drive, molding our beliefs about the opposite sex, waiting for us to come home from that first date. Piecing together our broken hearts, taking the million pictures for mom on prom night. Walking us down the aisle with tears in his eyes. Standing behind us as we start our own journey as parents, always a mighty bulwark against the worst the world throws at us.
I was raised with an alcoholic father, and that was perhaps the least of his problems, so none of those wonderful things I write about come from my childhood, except as observations of my friend’s lives, things I read in books, and the secret dreams that bled from my soul for something I could not see or comprehend, but that I knew was there, out there just out of my reach. Never doubt your importance to your children, and in being a great father, to the world. I believe one of the reasons we are here in the Tree, worrying so about our world, is that my generation’s fathers abandoned their children in great numbers, or allowed their pot hazed minds to warp the foundations of the world their children would live in.
In 1976, on June 19 coincidentally, I married a man who would become a world class husband and father. He has never been the TV image of a man who comes home from a management job, dons crisp shirt and jeans and tosses the ball to the kid. He has worked in a brutally demanding job for all those 35 years, worked his way up, runs a crew, but he is the classic American working man. He taught our children that work ethic, among millions of other fine things. My children had the rock solid, unshakable bedrock of a father to ground their lives from the first breath, He fought with the doctor to be allowed into the delivery room back before Lamaze came to our not so forward thinking town, and he was that involved every day of their lives, even though many of those days he was off to work before they got up, and came home after they had dinner. I have included this personal tale here because I want to make two very real and important points, which I think are made stronger with personal observations. Of all the hard, wonderful things he did as a father, to me two absolutely made the difference between being a father, and being a Father. First, he led us to church. Yes, as a 19 year old young man, he chose to be married in his church, when I had no church to turn to. He held our sons as they were baptized, he took us to church every Sunday. He helped teach the boys to pray. He stood, unknown even in his own mind, as a tiny child’s first image of what God the Father who loves and protects us, might be. His faith, his values, his prayers – all these things were crucial to raising children. The second thing he did is becoming a lost art among fathers, I fear. He taught our children obedience, discipline, and self control. In other words, he was not always the good guy. He very early on taught the boys that all actions have consequences, and some are bad. In a world filled with the politically correct afraid to offend, he taught them to shoot straight (literally too!) and be men. He taught them that there was a right and a wrong, and a big firm line in between. They never, and I do mean never, saw him cheat, or steal, or take the easy way out.
So for all you fathers out there, if your children are young, I urge you to be there for them, and not just for the fun. They need your firm and guiding hand. Give it to them. For those of you who have traveled that rocky, steep journey, may I give you a hearty thank you. We need more of you, and the kind of person you gave the world. The results of your work are not always evident, and you may have to have faith and be patient. Some kids take a longer time growing into their raising, as we say in the south. Stick around for those grandkids – you have even more to offer, and your work is not done. God bless and keep you, and enjoy your day. Thank you for a job well done.
To back up my thoughts, I offer this link from DadsWorld.com. Take a look at these statistics about children without fathers. Scary and heartbreaking stuff.
https://www.dadsworld.com/parenting-statistics/importance-of-fathers.html