Fatherhood Friday: Old School

I have been pondering what to write about for Fatherhood Friday, this week.  I toyed with the idea of discussing problems that may accrue to being an African American dad… but my thoughts are still too jumbled and conflicted on that issue to write coherently.  I thought about writing more about Full Spectrum Fathering… but, my last missive on that subject is still a bit too recent for more of that.  I even thought that I might write about what I am feeling as my youngest child passes out of little-girlhood… but that would make me cry, so I won’t do that, either.

I decided that I would write about something that I haven’t talked about with many people.  Today I am going to talk about my adult relationship with my dad, Herman.

If you poke around enough at this blog and my old blog, you’ll come to the conclusion that my childhood relationship with my dad was less than perfect.  As a matter of fact, you’ll probably come to the conclusion that my childhood relationship with my dad was pretty crappy.  If that is what you are thinking, you’d be right.  Now, go get a cookie, congratulate yourself, and come back.

My adult relationship with my father has been a bit different.  Fortunately, my dad, as is often the case with old people, has mellowed some in his views, and has become for his grandchildren, what he wasn’t for his own children:  A great guy to be around, and someone you always look forward to seeing.  My dad wasn’t a great dad, but he is a hell of a granddad, and all of his grand children… all eight of them, love him deeply.  I suppose if I was the weepy type, this revelation would have me bawling over my keyboard.  Good thing I am a steely-eyed killer with no feelings.

The thing is, my dad is a pretty cool guy, and as much as I never wanted to admit it, we are alike in many ways.  My dad has a real cornball sense of humor.  He finds things funny that other people will just shrug over.  I do that, too.  My dad loves to read.  So do I.  My dad is (still) something of a lady’s man.  So was I once We don’t have that in common, but, still, what a guy.  My dad takes responsibility very seriously… at least, he does now.  So do I.  My dad, even at his age, is still incurably curious about the world, and the things happening in it.

As an adult, I actually look forward to talking to my father.  Our conversations are usually full of laughter, and good-feeling.  I look forward to seeing him, too… and I am pleased about the fact that dad is going to come and spend a long weekend with us while we are on vacation in Florida this August.  I know that he will be happy to have the time with me (we have a LOT of lost time between us), and most especially, happy to have the time with soccer girl, who truly loves her granddaddy.

My father is 73… he'll be 74 in early August.  The second half of his life seems to have been about repentance for the acts of the first half of his life… you have to give a man props when he seeks to redeem himself.

Here is to you, dad… you are a heck of a guy.

 

This post is brought to you in conjunction with Fatherhood Friday, which is a weekly event inspired bt the Dad Blogs.  When you get a moment, stop by and see what my brother fathers (and the women that love us) are talking about!