The true father figure
I was highly lucky to have the father I have as I grew older. he was always there for me. Unfortunately, the majority of society isn’t so lucky.
My dad had two loves in his life – baseball/Sports and his kids. I was lucky to be a third of his offspring.
My two brothers and I grew up in a broken home. My mother and father divorced when I was three months old. Luckily, I wasn’t so affected by the separation, but my brothers, that was a different story. Each of them were affected differently.
I’m not sure if the divorce/separation had any affect on my fathers parenting, but from the time I can remember, he was a quality parent to my brothers and I. Quality is an understatement.
There aren’t too many memories of mine that don’t harness joy with my father. Often times, during our weekend visits, we played endless hours of baseball, or we would walk through the forest on treasure hunts. We were constantly trying to find ways to tap into our creativity.
I was a little closer to my father than my other two brothers. They were close to him as well, but it was our connection that was special.
Even during my teenage years, rather than partying with my friends so I would rather spend my time with my father. We would sit and talk and watch sports for countless hours in the evenings. And, during the days we filled our time with various activities. Playing billiards, hanging out with his friends, or virtually anything we could set our minds to. We enjoyed every minute we spent with each other. But, this lasting memory, although it’s cherished within my mind, it eats away at me every now and then. And, not for the reason you would expect.
As a new father of two young toddlers – 3 1/2 years old and one and a half years old, I’ve battled the challenge of being as good of a father to my girls as my father was to me. In fact, often times, almost every night actually, as I put my kids to sleep, I question myself, wondering if I spent as quality of time with them as I could’ve. And, most the time, my answer is No.
I know kids are tough to handle, especially when they’re barely old enough to talk or wipe their own ass, but sometimes they make it difficult to spend the most quality time with them. This is definitely an excuse.
I’ve had my challenges with finding activities that would allow me to relate with them. Things such as playing Barbies, dress-up, Doctor/Dentist or any other professional field, I have attempted nearly every type activity you could with a toddler, but I still have failed to be as good of a father is my father was to me in my own eyes.
I hate the feeling that I get when I put them to sleep, knowing that I could’ve been more generous to them, or had spent more time with them asking questions, or finding ways to teach them new things. The good thing is; although life is short, it’s not that short. There’s always ample opportunities to become your best.
Being your best doesn’t mean perfection. It means slow steady incline of positive activity in your life. It’s trying new things and wanting to be better.
One day I will be as good of a father as my father was to me. I know this because I want to be.
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