Fatherhood: Your Mission Should You Accept

I was very reluctant to join this fraternity…that is, well, while I always have entertained the idea of becoming a parent…to say I was ill prepared at the time when life checked that priority box, vaulting it from about the middle of my minds list to the top, would be an extreme understatement. I cannot remember the specific day…although it was sometime around mid march, could have been cold - could have been warm, who really knows what one gets in the fringes of Chicago winters. But I do remember this, Leah was on the couch, I was heavily into Napstar, trying hard to think of every song I had ever wanted so that I could download them (the rumors that such an ingenious idea was possibly illegal were just starting to stir, and I still had about 30 songs to go from that sounds of the 70’s collection I was too cheap to pay for!). I could tell that she was upset, I wasn’t quite sure why - after I was finished I’d check it out later (remember…those priorities), but sometime between Barry Manilow’s “Copacabana” and Elton John/Kiki Taylor’s “Don’t Go Breaking My Heart”, she asked if I had a second to talk. It was in a way that let me know THIS was really IMPORTANT. I was curious…did I forget to pick up something she asked for at the store?…no, toilet seat up?…no, too busy downloading to worry about using the bathroom. What could it be?…boy was I ever in for it.
The following moments were a bit of a haze as we spent several hours and a small fortune zipping through grocery stores buying nothing but test. I became an expert on test (a grade school teacher of mine that once wrote that I lacked focus/dedication on a sub par paper would have been proud)…there were the one’s with/without lines, plus/minus signs, even one with smiles/frowns (in hindsight, we should have kept that one). I stared so long and so hard at those things that for the first time in my life I was questioning my 20/20 eyesight…maybe mama was right, I don’t eat enough carrots, this sure does look like a line/plus/smiley face…but well, it’s kind of faded. All the while Leah stayed focused in the chair, drinking lots of water in preparation for the long night ahead of us. Copacabana had finished downloading and started to play:
“Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl
With yellow feathers in her hair and a dress
cut down to there….”
My love of music allows me sometimes to match my life and its events to particular songs. When I was a little boy raising havoc on the side walk in my Knight Rider car it was “Bad to the Bone” (the Alvin & the Chipmunks version of course), My first crush, “When A Man Loves A Woman”, High School graduation “Future So Bright I Got to Wear Shades”, but for this…this strange, confusing and life altering time all I had in my head was the Talking Heads,
...and you may ask yourself, blah, blah, blah
…and you may find yourself, blah, blah, blah
...and you may wonder “How did I get here?”
---EXACTLY!
The nine months were…let’s say, interesting. full of a million emotions. Enough words written on the paper of my mind for an anthology. Although important, I will stray from all that to get to the actual meat of this whole long streaming thought. Fatherhood began for me long before I touched her hand…long before I knew for absolute certain that she was even a she (although I told everyone that God wanted me to have a girl first…people just laughed and pointed at Leah’s belly talkin’ ’bout the shape of it and telling me to be prepared for a little boy…I sure SHOWED THEM!!!). On December 11, 2001 a really cold December, at about half past 6pm (I remember that so well because I was able to catch the new episode of “Smallville” that began at 7), little Kaylee was born and I said hello to her for the first time and promptly changed her name to Athena (seeing her go through the pains of child birth, I decided Leah can over ride my coin toss victory for naming rights).
What a night…A happy night, but one sprinkled with a lot of sadness/worry. It really hit me, in the dark of the hospital room as Leah lay sleeping and Athena was just down the hall, I have no clue how to be a Father! The tears rolled down gently from the anguish of my quiet heart. I had been given a gift that I did not deserve, an overwhelming bundle of joy…that seemed to be given to me by mistake. Who am I to be called daddy, what a precious name to be given to someone so klutzy, so fool hearted and mixed up. The loneliness of that moment was overwhelming so I left to be revived by the cold air.
I talked to God…something this church kid in rebellion hadn’t done for awhile, but there were several things I didn’t know and my shoulders were feeling heavy. Graciously he calmed my soul.
An adventure, one wild, exciting, difficult, fearful and confusing adventure fatherhood has been. The first time I was ever left alone with Athena so that Leah could work for a couple hours, that lil’ girl let out a force of whales and screams upon me to the likes of which I’d never known. Nothing helped. I feed her, changed her, burped her, put her up, put her down, feed her, changed her, burped her - still screaming and crying. The minute she saw her mom, she stopped all that and fell asleep. I went to bed discouraged. “She really doesn’t need you!”…the voices in my head kept telling me.
“Leah could do a better job on her own…your mom did it!”
“YOU ARE YOUR FATHERS SON!”
Now, I don’t believe in my heart, that most Father’s set out to be bad example’s. I believe that discouragement, like the following I just mentioned (substitute the name), and a society that downplays a Father’s importance, can be extremely damaging on the male psyche, especially if they, like myself, do not have that personal experience to draw upon ( i.e. absentee or un-involved dad). The burden of leading and providing can become quite heavy and good intentions are trampled underneath the heavy boot of fear. Yes, being a Father is down right scary…even for those who have had the tools that should make them successful on paper. Every day that I am Daddy, I have to confront personal inadequacies - old and new (you will be amazed at how many new ones come up), that have an effect on the type of parent I am vs. the kind I would like to be. I get pretty arrogant sometimes when people compliment me on my patience. But boy Athena knows…especially when we are getting ready for school. I ask her did you do this, this and that over and over and she just replies “uh huh”. As we are rushing out the door I notice something obvious that she missed…like she doesn’t have her shoes on, and look at her. Understanding my facial expressions of annoyance/disgust she starts crying and saying “well…you didn’t tell me to do THAT.) AAAAGAGGHHHH!!!!
Those things can be discouraging as I sit back and reflect on how I could have handled the situation better, how I could have communicated more at her level, how I could have chosen not to wake up late and rush her, thinking she could handle it the same way I do. Those are discouragements sure - but there are also deeper ones, for me, as a “matters of the heart” kind of person I worry for Luvbug’s stability, I worry that I failed her by not giving her the stability of a two parent family. As she grows older, it’s one of my deepest prayer’s that she does not become non-chalant and jaded on the blessings and sanctity of marriage. As the main male in her life right now, sometimes I look in the mirror, and have to come to some hard realities when the question is asked; “am I a good example of the type of guy I would want Athena to entrust her heart (romantically speaking) to when she gets older and men come calling? There are worries on top of worries for each and every one of us - some universal, some very different.
While I sympathize, I do not condone the reasons that may lead to being a dead beat pops. When I was younger going through all the hurt and pain of not having my dad around I use to always try to take some solace in the fact that maybe one day, when I’m a dad I’ll understand…well, I don’t. In a world where men are brought up to believe that manhood is all about being the biggest, strongest, wealthiest, sexiest. I choose to think that those blessed with the opportunity to become Dads, and take on that responsibility whole heartedly, no matter the circumstances and against all sorts of negativity - are the coolest dudes on the planet and get the most respect from me. There are a few things I’d like to hang my hat on when I die, and one of the biggest hooks would be that of being known as a great and loving Father. A man who has earned the deepest love and affection from his kids has lived a treasured life, beyond anything money could ever buy.

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY!!!!