I am not good at holidays...
Possibly because I question whether they are really necessary,
and then, because I question whether I deserve them.
Not asking for reassurance in any way, just sharing what is on my mind.
It turns out Sonora Dodd was listening to a sermon on mother's in 1910 and decided father's should be celebrated too. She fought to make it a national holiday, and made it happen here and there. It wasn't until 1966 or 1972 that Father's Day was made an official national holiday, by non other than Richard Nixon.
So, on the one hand, it feels like a forced and unnecessary recognition for a role that we all (or almost all of us) entered willingly and of our own volition.
And, on the other hand, it is nice to take a breath and give father's a nod for their efforts.
For me, Father's Day is really about my dad. I am proud of the relationship that we have grown over my 50 years.
But, to be honest, Father's Day always reminds me of the distance that separates us... not more of a physical distance than an emotional one. Like so many days, I feel a constant sense of guilt on these holidays that are really more than anything about being together. I realize now at this point in my life, I probably spent about 19 or 20 Father's Days with my dad, possibly 15 of them conscious. And, I have now spent 31 of them from a distance of some kind...
It's partly that I wish I could hug him on Father's Day and help him know that I am grateful. It's more because I know that he also feels the distance deeply, and the fact that he gets to spend days like this with "other" people's children.
I think about my father - at one point father of three... now father of one... his wife in a home unable to rationally acknowledge him... and his one son half a world away... and I know he feels lonely... and that makes me sad... and that makes me feel guilty. What can I do... it's the way I am wired.
So, I am getting close to that point with my own boys, where we are reaching that age when they are becoming men and will be leaving "the nest" soon, and Father's Day's may enjoy less proximity.
And, so I think about my boys, and I feel guilty on some level... have I been the father they deserve and need?
I used to feel very proud of my fatherhood skills. I felt like I really understood the role. And now, as they grow older, I am not so sure. Maybe it's partly embracing that I don't know what I don't know... maybe it's that the relationship becomes so much more complex as they get older.
I realized recently that I have been very focused on being the father I wish I'd had... I have tried to be present for them. I have tried to respect them always. I wanted to be the dad that was not scared, but provided certainty. I wanted to give them space to be who they are. I wanted to be the dad that was on the field with them as their coach. I wanted to be the dad that transitioned with them as they grew from father to mentor and eventually to old friend...
And, I realize that was the father I wanted to have, perhaps not the father they needed me to be.
Maybe they needed more structure than I have provided.
Maybe they needed more guidance than I have given.
Maybe they needed less cynicism and more spirituality.
Maybe they have picked up on my many risk aversions and my propensity to overthink life...
Maybe...
The thought that perhaps I have been the father I wanted and not the father they really needed causes me pause.
I know I have done many things right, but now the possibility of also having done many things wrong is also possible.
Maybe that is the circle of life... each of us being the parents we wished we had... and always leaving a gap with who our children needed us to be...
Or maybe we are all so unique that being a perfect father, or mother, is not an option, and we just all simply do the best that we can.
I take responsibility... it's who I am.
Father's day causes me pause... as a son, then as a father... with feelings of disharmony pulling at me.
I have a gravity for disharmony...
And, I am grateful for my IS... grateful for the man who taught me harmony... grateful for having created the space to have my own life... grateful for so many dreams that have come true... grateful to be the father, or really close to the father, that I wish I'd had... and grateful for the humility to know that I am so far from perfect that my children will have to figure out their own paths and their own peace of mind...
And, hopeful, hopeful that they will each find their way... and that with time they will understand how very much I have loved them, how very hard I have tried... and more than anything, hopeful, that they will someday have the opportunity that someday they will get the chance to be the father they'd wish they would have had...
that they may feel the pride, love and complexity of fatherhood...
Part of getting older and wiser means facing up to our imperfections...
I too often live on the line between disharmony and harmony.
I am an imperfect man,
and a lucky one...
guilty AND grateful...
to have my father around trying to enjoy the sunset of his days...
and to have 3 amazing, unique boys who are just starting their own journeys...
life is an imperfect dream come true... and I mean that in the most grateful of ways...
I used to pray that God not take me before I could set my boys off on their way as independent men,
Now I pray that God doesn't take me before my father, so that he doesn't have to feel completely alone...
And, I realize, perhaps we just do all that we can, while we can... and if we do it right, we are never done...
Ironically, maybe the greatest gift we can give our fathers (and our children) is the certainty of our love without the weight of our guilt...
maybe that is what we are all striving for, knowingly or not...
the circle of life and harmony is palpable.
Yesterday was just another day...
another father's day...
happy belated
men,
in harmony,
Nestor