I have a son. There is no greater gift a man can have.
He is 16 years old. I remember 16. It was not easy for me and it has not been a walk in the park for him.
He has been in Utah for the past year and last night he arrived home. I met him at the airport and we came to my home, talked a bit, ate (he has a ferocious appetite, which, in spite of, he is skinny as a rail…a small genetic inheritance from dear ol’ skinny Dad) and then slept.
He was picked up this morning by his mother, who lives down the road and with whom he generally lives. We will spend tomorrow and Monday together and then he is off with his mom for a few days before he goes to a boarding school in Connecticut.
I love him. He loves me. There is no doubt between us of these two facts.
He trusts me. He willingly reveals himself (as best as he can interpret himself) to me…always has…perhaps, he always will. One never knows.
My own father’s influence on me was defined more by his absence in my life than by his presence. I set out, When my son was born, to not have that be the case with his father in his life. So far, so good.
Here’s the storypoint to all this:
A few days before my boy’s arrival home, I become uncomfortable. I wonder about my fitness as a father…as his father. What will we talk about? Will we talk at all? What will we do? How will he greet me? Should I wrap him in my arms? Is he too old for that? Does he think I’m an idiot, yet (he is a teen, after all)? Does he see through my charade?…sense the fatherly fraud in me?
This is a small part of the influence of my own father’s absence on his son. I often suspect that he felt these same things with me…perhaps contributing to his reasons for disappearing (although it isn’t as simple as him just “disappearing”).
During these moments of doubt, I seriously have absolutely no clue how to be a father and no experience with a father of my own to rely on or, at least, imitate. It’s frightening and depressing…and gets more powerful as the time passes and the arrival grows nigh.
It has been this way for the last 14 years. His mother and I were divorced when he was 2. She is very flexible and generous with regard to our contact with each other (my son’s and mine). Every time I would drive to get him for whatever time together we had, these same thoughts and feelings and fears and anxieties would accompany me on my trip.
So here it all is again.
And here’s what happened (and what always has happened)…
I arrive at the baggage claim exit where he is waiting. He sees me. He lights up. He smiles. He gestures to make sure that I see him (which, of course, I have already moments before)…and…suddenly…I am lit up…I am smiling…I am exiting the car as he is hurrying towards me (not the car, but, me) with his bags. We hug just as easy and real as it always has been…load up his luggage and get the hell out of there and begin our conversation right where we left the last one. I am able to make him laugh (a good sign…always) and he makes me smile…and think…and love him.
The only thing that I have come up with as a solution to the anxieties that I mention is to simply …show up. I let all of this internal dialogue go on as long as it wants to (I can’t do anything about it, anyway) and then…I show up…the rest becomes instantly easy.
I think my son knows (and likes) that about me. His Dad will always show up…and there’s a lot to be said for showing up.
LB
www.larryburnett.com
Tags: fatherhood, Firefall, live performance, music, non-custodial parent, parental fitness, Parenting, sons
Dad you do just fine as a father. don’t worry so much. i like you for you i dont expect you to be the perfect dad. you always make me happy, just being arround you so no worrys
Desiderata
– written by Max Ehrmann in the 1920s —
Not “Found in Old St. Paul’s Church”! — see below
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.