I am kind
of embarrassed to share this on such a public forum… I am afraid you will be shocked I could have
committed the act I am about to describe.
I hardly remember the me that did this, but I did… and yesterday the memory of it flashed before
my eyes in vivid clarity. I once bit a
button off our green velvet recliner and spit it at my dad (well really just tried
to because although I could unlodge the string that tied the button to the
couch the string and button still remained attached to some innards I could not
see). It was in a fit of total 7th
grade rage and hysterics. I recalled
this memory while watching a beloved colleague’s escalating argument with her
typically angelic daughter unfold before my eyes (well really ears because it
happened on the phone). Seeing her
daughter yell over a t-shirt gave me a glimpse into my future but also to my
past. The recollection of said button
incident brought me an intense sense of internal peace as I realized that act
did not make me stop loving my dad – nor him me. In fact, to this day he remains one of my
favorite people in the world despite committing atrocities such as not letting
me spend the night at a boy/girl party when I was an 11th
grader. That decision led to me lying
across his back seat and crying passionately for the 20 minutes it took him to
drive me to Imo’s as my consolation only to have me refuse to enter the
restaurant. Somehow I forgave him for
denying my pleas to activate the pager my crush gave me to use if my dad would
just get me a service plan. This inner
peace yesterday left me ready to confidently enter the teen years with my
daughters - the years when I start ruining their life on a regular basis
instead of just occasionally. I hope to
remember that no matter the fight how I love my children so much and that they
love me no matter what comes out of our mouths… literally L
Many people
think of dads as protectors in the papa bear sense. They think of dads who can fix anything that
breaks with the right tool or dads who will sit on porches with shot guns to
scare away robbers and boys or anything else that might threaten the
family. Any walk through the card store
will show you what the love of a father is “supposed” to look and feel
like. As I have aged I realize the protection
I feel from my father is a much softer protection. It is more like a soft invisible shield that
has blanketed me in every action and every aspect of my life as I have walked
this Earth. It is the protection that
comes from knowing truly unconditional love and total adoration. It is his pride in me that became my pride in
myself and allowed me to always walk with my head high, to speak my mind and to
take risks.
When I was in tenth grade my
teacher asked me to bring some paperwork home to my dad. I forgot to.
Organization was never my strong suit.
This forgetfulness led to a rare phone call home. The teacher reported that my dad said he was disappointed
in me. I came home and let my dad have
it because I felt like my teacher was like my boss and I would never berate my
dad to his boss. My dad became very
upset with the teacher’s relay of their conversation. He explained that although I should have
brought those papers home that he did not and never would use the word disappointed
to describe any of his children. This was
a very conscious decision he had made and committed to that I had never known
about, but it made sense. It described
why I was so taken aback when I thought he had used the word.
Of all the emotions my dad has conveyed
to us over the years (and if you know him you know there have been a lot)
disappointment was never one of them.
His love is total. His acceptance
is total. His adoration is total. I never had to doubt that. I never will.
I consider it the greatest parenting he ever gave us. It’s so simple really. It’s should be so easy and yet it can be so
hard. When little versions of you walk
around it can be so easy to see their imperfections because it’s a self-critique
at its source. But if we can learn to
love ourselves completely and our children accordingly that can be the greatest
gift we can give. That will be the
parenting decision that matters more than any other. It will help us survive the words and objects
that fly during the most tumultuous days of adolescence.
