I’m not a father. It’s surprising to many of my clients that as an attorney dealing with all the struggles of parenthood within the legal universe, I am not a parent myself. However, much like the fact that you don’t have to be a musician to appreciate great music, you don’t have to be a parent to appreciate the concepts, the importance, and the beauty found within this most primal of human relationships. Many of my clients are intentional fathers after great contemplation and planning, while others are fathers who were less than prepared for such a role. Either way, I believe I understand fatherhood, and that’s not a statement I make lightly. I don’t understand it due to my years of assisting countless dads in divorce, paternity, child custody, and child support cases. I understand fatherhood because I have more than 40 years of experience being the child of a great father. I know how important that relationship is to a kid, because I know how important it was, and still is, to me.
My dad did all the things you’d want a father to do. He threw baseballs in the backyard all summer long, attended every little league game, and knew how to grill a great hamburger. He worked hard and provided everything he could for his family, surely to the detriment of things he personally wanted. That’s something dads do that doesn’t occur to kids until they reach a certain age. Much of his extra spending money ended up under the Christmas tree or wrapped in colorful paper at birthday parties, and don’t forget about the struggle to afford those summer vacations! For more on that, check out my “Summer Vacation” post!
In many ways my dad was a traditional man’s kind of man. He drove muscle cars, survived a tour in the jungles of Vietnam, fixed everything with his own two hands, and always seemed to be hammering on something. Every kind of device or machine imaginable from around the neighborhood found its way to our house. Everything from people’s malfunctioning TVs to bicycles to lawnmowers were dismantled, repaired, and reassembled. I grew up believing he could truly do anything! As a kid I just assumed he left for work in a white shirt and clip-on tie only to enter the nearest phone booth and emerge to save the world (and then arrive home each night in time for dinner). However, my dad wasn’t “macho”, he never needed to be. Without a touch of bravado or arrogance he commanded respect and taught me that a real man doesn’t boast about what he can do, he simply does it.
As good as all that was, what really left an indelible mark on the person I would turn out to be was how my father treated other people. He was the first to show up to help a neighbor or family member and the last to leave when there was a job unfinished. He taught me that you didn’t promise anything you weren’t willing to follow through on. Even though he might not have approved of every choice I made as a young adult, he didn’t discourage me from pursuing the things I truly wanted in life, no matter how far fetched. Instead of telling me what to choose, he just taught me to choose carefully.
Unfortunately, being a dad is often a thankless job, which is why Father’s Day is so important. I’ve seen what a difference having an involved and caring father makes to one’s self esteem, work ethic, or even one’s world view. Let me be clear that the concept of “fatherhood” is not about being male or female. I’ve seen women successfully fill the stereotypical male roles and men fill those roles in which we expect to find women. Physiology aside, the title of “Father” simply identifies that person who embodies the role of protector, supporter, role model, catcher of baseballs, griller of hotdogs, and fixer of broken toys. Sometimes, single parents find themselves playing both parental roles out of necessity and they should be celebrated on Mother’s AND Father’s day. For some, that person may not even be a parent. It could be anyone who stepped up to fill those empty spaces. I hope that whoever that person is in your life, you find a moment to acknowledge all the moments they gave you in those formative years that made you who you are today. If your father has already passed from this world, pay homage to him by doing something that would make him proud. Trust me, it doesn’t take much.
I’ve said before that the most amazing thing about my dad is that he wasn’t actually a superhero. I thought life was easy for him, which is why he could do all those great things for everyone else! As an adult, I realize that the reality was far more impressive than that. He did it all that without any superpowers. None. No ability to fly, no x-ray vision, nothing but the regular old limitations every man has to live with. After all, dads are more than just parents. They’re also regular guys trying to live their own lives, achieve their own dreams, and deal with the oppressive day to day challenges of life.
If you are lucky like me, as you get older, your dad will emerge as your best friend and his value in your life will be more than obvious. On the other hand, everyone’s story is different and you might have to look a bit deeper to appreciate your own father figure. It might involve some selective memory, some recognition that your father is flawed like everyone else, and that he can’t turn back time. It might even involve some old fashioned forgiveness.
Either way, celebrate your own “man of steel”, even if it turns out he’s just a regular guy. In my experience, dads just might have one uncanny ability. It’s the one where, faced with overwhelming odds and much easier paths away from the fight, they choose to stay. They become a formidable force, powered by pure love, that stands unflinchingly between children and the evils of the world. They give, they fight, and they sacrifice themselves for the good of their kids… for the good of us all.
It’s a power one only gains when transitioning from a mere mortal man into that elevated form known as a father. It’s a unique, impressive power which comes with great responsibility, and not to be wielded by the meek at heart. It’s a power one might even say is…well, downright “super”.