What my father gave me
When I was in graduate school nearly 20 years ago, I wrote a short story about my father. It was part truth laced heavily with fiction, and rather harsh on him. My father never read the story, but many years later I read it to a group of elderly people as part of Northern Essex Community College’s Lifelong Learning series. Several older gentlemen approached me after the reading, grasping my hand firmly in their gnarled ones, and telling me, their eyes wet with emotion, that they knew my father had loved me—that he had loved me very much. I remember being stunned by their response.
They seemed to want very much to explain my father’s behavior as a product of the times more than a reflection of his true feelings. I like to think that expectations for fathers have changed since those days. With time, my view of my father has also changed—now that he has been gone for 16 years and I have children of my own. He wasn’t demonstrative, it’s true, but instead of soft words and hugs, my father gave me an unwavering sense of integrity to self. That integrity included standing by your family, being loyal to your friends, and above all, being accountable to yourself. Looking back at the way he modeled those values, I realize instilling the same qualities in my own children is my way of passing on this precious gift.
Happy Father’s Day, and if you’re lucky enough to still have yours with you, please take a moment today to thank him for the gifts he’s given you.