When asked about fatherhood my stock response is being a dad has been the great privilege of my life. Perhaps that sounds like a very safe, very standard answer, but for me, it is very true. Being a dad is the hardest thing I have ever done, but also the best thing I have ever done.
This year, as with every year, I spent an hour or so on Father’s Day talking by phone with my own father. Just prior to hopping off the phone I ran down the line of my three kids for the customary “say hi to Grandpa”. That done, I told him that if my children think I am a great dad (and they usually seem to except when I am forcing them to do chores) it is because I had such a great father of my own.
My dad’s reply had an extra note of emotion in his typically dry, gruff voice. “You flatter me,” he said. “I wish I could have been better.”
Understand, he didn’t do badly— at all. My father taught me the essentials of law, science, politics, critical thinking, history, philosophy and so many other things that form the bedrock of my personality and world view. He was kind and thoughtful, a protector and a mentor. If I have not risen to the heights of greatness and achieved only modest success in life, that is a reflection upon me as a son, not upon him as a father.
What struck me was how similar his words were to my very own just earlier that morning. Amid bringing me breakfast and special cards they made themselves, my children were showering me with praise, telling me what a great dad I was. But all I could say was “Being your dad has been the greatest thing I have ever done. I wish I was better at it.”
Now, this is not false modesty nor self-sabotaging flagellation. I think I know what I do well as a dad and where I fall down, but I certainly don’t think I am making a total hash of it or anything like that.
The fact is, that desire to do better, to be better, to see one’s flaws and yearn to think, speak and act beyond them, those are the hallmarks of a true father.
There is always something you could have explained more clearly, addressed sooner, known more about, resolved more equitably. Fatherhood and Father’s Day should never be just about what a great job you have done. It should be about the better job you are going to do the next day and the day after that.
You see, there is one thing my dad was both right and wrong about. Years ago, he once told me that as far as nature was concerned his role was done. His offspring were old enough to survive, defend themselves and raise children of their own. He was superfluous. He laughed, finding a dry humor in it.
Yes, as far as the pitiless laws of nature are concerned, my dad might no longer needed. But as a tribe, a family, a father’s work never ends. Even once they are grown and independent, they will always be your children. He is still teaching me things, even if he doesn’t realize it. I learned a few things from Dad just from that brief call.
So, Happy Father’s Day to all you dads out there. If you have stayed the course so far, pat yourself on the back, but get ready for tomorrow. You still have the time— and the privilege to do better.
