Sherman made the terrible discovery that men make about their fathers sooner or later… that the man before him was not an aging father but a boy, a boy much like himself, a boy who grew up and had a child of his own and, as best he could, out of a sense of duty and, perhaps love, adopted a role called Being a Father so that his child would have something mythical and infinitely important: a Protector, who would keep a lid on all the chaotic and catastrophic possibilities of life. ~Tom Wolfe, The Bonfire of the Vanities
Tomorrow is a big day for those celebrating Father’s Day. My own father would have been 100 years old this year if he was still alive. He was born in 1913.
When both my mother and father were alive, all the cards they bought for birthday or other celebrations said “our daughter” and when my mother died, all the cards said “a daughter.” These collages comprise cards of both kinds. The first collage includes a poem my Daddy wrote called “My Daughter.” He was “Daddy” to me.
There are all kinds of father-daughter relationships and it all depends, too, on the era in which you were brought up. In my father’s generation, men were not present to witness the birthing process. They were not even present at the hospital when the baby was born. They came to see the baby after it was born. They were very much excited and looking forward to the new arrival but it wasn’t the tradition for them to be present. The fathers of today are present in the delivery room for this life-changing moment in their lives and they wouldn’t miss it for the world.
When I was a little girl, I believed my father knew everything. I loved him and I feared him. He was gentle and kind to me but he could be stern. However, I knew that he was always there to protect me. Daddy could do no wrong. As other children often do with their parents, I idolized him.
It’s only when I got older that I realized that he didn’t know very much at all – especially when I became a teenager. He was so old-fashioned. Once, when I was very obnoxious, my father quoted Mark Twain to me: When I was fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have him around. When I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years.
Even then, what he said was way above me – except the part about ignorance. We only realize that our parents have acquired some real life experiences along the way when we ourselves are much older. For me, it was very late in life.
My father, like many other fathers, did not attend any parenting classes. He “adopted” a role and was the father he was through biology, conditioning, culture, and many other variables. His main role was bread-winner since my mother didn’t work outside the home. Yet, he spent time with us and was interested in all that we were learning and doing. He loved us and cared for us and took on the responsibility of being a father – even though he had not been trained for this role.
When I was younger, I thought that there were perfect parents – but my life experience tells me that there aren’t any. On a day like Father’s Day, it’s good to be grateful and honor our fathers or father-figures. It’s also important to remember that in any role we assume, we go through a process of familiarizing ourselves with the role and learning it. My father was learning this role as he went along. I’m very grateful and happy today for my father and the important part he played in my life. I know, however, that from the day he first became a father, to the day that he died, he was still learning that role. I was a witness to the process of “fathering” that he was still learning. He knew he didn’t have all the answers – not only about fathering, but about many other things as well.
Only a dad but he gives his all, To smooth the way for his children small, Doing with courage stern and grim The deeds that his father did for him. This is the line that for him I pen: Only a dad, but the best of men. – Edgar A. Guest
Happy Father’s Day, one and all!