Tag: fathers

Being a father is a somewhat thankless job. As a daughter and a mother, I appreciate fathers only more as I grow older, as I realize not only the incredible and positive impact that my own father had on me, but as I watch my husband navigate his role as well.

We spend less on Father’s Day than on Mother’s Day. And a quick scroll through social media gives a complex picture of the holiday. There are touching photos of tiny daughters dancing on their father’s shoes, and heart-felt quotes and photos of much older daughters, brides now, dancing in their father’s arms. But there are also a lot more jokes than you see with mother’s day. A lot more cards with fathers sitting in arm chairs in front of the television, or nods to the notion that fathers are a loving and open wallet. And there’s a lot more anger. Anger from children and from mothers about fathers who didn’t make the jump to being “dad.”

Parenthood in general has become much more of a balancing act between home and career. Compared to even 50 years ago, more mothers are working outside the home, whether as corporate lawyers or as fulltime facilitators of their own and their children’s activities and pursuits, and more fathers are working within it, as fulltime or equal partners in the three C’s of parenthood: cleaning, carpooling and caretaking. I think that’s proof of evolution. We’re less defined by our gender than we are by our interests. Popular culture, however, has yet to catch up. We’re still more likely to see a well-intentioned but bumbling father on primetime tv than we are an inept mother. Father’s Day itself wasn’t made official until 1972, while Mother’s Day has been on the books since 1914. Fatherhood is a somewhat thankless job.

Single parents are the greatest superheroes there are in my book. I look at everything that has to be done, day in and day out, and the thought of tackling it alone is sobering and terrifying. And so many parents do it every day, and do an amazing job. I am, however, infinitely grateful to have had my father dance with me on his shoes when I was his tiny daughter. I’m grateful that later, he ran beside me as I learned to ride a bike, and then sat beside me, at times terrified I’m sure, as I learned to drive a car. He taught me how to love music as a visceral element of the soul, the fine art of dry wit, and the importance of getting on with it, whatever it might be at the time, without complaint, to get the job done, because hard work is part of life and is better embraced than bemoaned. My father unquestionably has my back. Every time. When I do good things, when I do incredibly stupid things. I know he’s not proud of every decision I’ve ever made, but that he be proud of the sum total of them is hugely important to me, because he’s a man who I will look up to forever.

Because my father is a hardworking, centered, loving man, I knew what to look for in a partner. Sure, I messed that up a few times first, but because I had my father’s example, I knew when I’d chosen poorly, and knew to keep looking. My husband doesn’t have a collection of vinyl records to share with his children, and he doesn’t sing songs at bedtime, but he’s the father to our daughters that my own childhood taught me to search for. He gets up at 5am every morning so that he can pick his children up from school, at which point he shuttles them to various dance classes and soccer practices, and helps make duct tape clothing for Girl Scouts and badgers them into cleaning and homework and general responsibility. He keeps our ship running while also giving our daughters a perspective that I just don’t have. He lets them jump from that high wall, and he assumes that they can trench a sprinkler system and that a little blood on the pavement is just a part of growing up, worth a Band-Aid, deserving of some tears, but not excessive coddling. Right now, his daughters think he can fix anything. In time they will discover that a broken toy is more easily mended than a battered heart or disappointed hopes, but because they know that their father has their backs, they’ll be okay, and will keep their standards high.

Happy Father’s Day to my dad and to my husband, two of the most loving, hard working, steadfast men I know. All my love.