So this past Sunday was my first Father's Day as an actual Dad. I guess last year I was an expecting one, so that doesn't count. I figured it would be like any other Sunday, especially given that my sons aren't old enough to talk let alone make breakfast, mow the lawn or wash the car (all things that I did for my dad growing up). I was surprised at the level of emotion I felt on the actual day and how connected to the role of Dad I had become.
The week leading up to Father's Day I was travelling to two conferences for work. Luckily, both were close enough to home that I was able to commute daily, however, on the night of the end of conference banquet, I intended on and in fact stayed over to take advantage of the festivities. Looking back on it, Adrienne and I both feel that I could have stayed the other nights as well, but at the time of booking, things were still so up in the air that we played it safe. So, getting back to my previous point...the reason this was a big deal is that it was the first time since their birth that I spent longer than 24 hours away from James and Andrew. Now as the strong masculine figure in the house I imagine that this isn't supposed to be bothersome or even all that dramatic, but for me it definitely was. For much of the day I was so busy that I didn't really notice, but as dinner drifted into evening and later, I definitely started to feel the separation and as I lay down to close my eyes, I couldn't help but feel the missed smiles as I walked through the door, the sloppy after dinner grins and the good night kisses to end my day. So anyway, there I lay, staring up at a non-descript popcorn ceiling on an uncomfortable mattress with a pillow that makes the Sunday paper seem thick, thinking about my family a few hundred kilometers away. To help me deal with my feelings I started looking through pictures on my phone...I skimmed through photos dating back to the very first moments of James' and Andrew's lives right up until a few days prior to my leaving and a smile slowly crept onto my face. I drifted off to sleep, knowing that in a few short hours (or 12 hours) I would be heading home to the two greatest gifts ever.
Which brings me to Father's Day, a few days after I returned home. The day was perfect, the boys (or Adrienne) got me some great gifts including a World's Best Dad shirt with a picture of Darth Vader on it (I am such a geek) but more importantly it was the cuddliest day we've ever spent together. We played on the floor for hours, sat out on the lawn and for the most part just spent the day, altogether as a family. I truly felt like the luckiest man alive, which made the next day (Monday) even more challenging than normal...back to work, up early and out the door before they really wake up and return home for a few hours together before bed time.
So my little men who each day get bigger and brighter, I guess the lesson I would like to pass on is this: there will be times when you feel like you aren't supposed to feel the way that you do. Sometimes, this is because you feel guilty or remorse about a strong reaction to a situation. Other times it will be because you feel social pressure not to really come to terms with the emotions that are bubbling inside of you. At these times, it is important to be true to your feelings and let them run their course. If that is sadness, don't be scared to cry a little. If it is fear, don't be afraid to seek reassurance as you try to be brave. If it is remorse or guilt, don't be afraid to admit that your wrong. The important part in all of this is that you find yourself, in the end, knowing that you have been true to your self in the most authentic way possible. Remember that generalizations and social norms exist because of how others perceive the "average" experience of fellow humans, not because it is right or because it represents who you should be. In fact, you are far from average and it is my hope that you never think that you need to hide what you are feeling because you don't think that it is what you should feel. After all, being authentic and true to your feelings is often a far braver thing to do than holding back, dulling your senses and letting others dictate how you experience life and love.
Thanks for a wonderful first Father's Day.
Love Dad
Sunday, June 24, 2012
Monday, June 4, 2012
Life Lessons for My Little Men #21
It has been nine months since James and Andrew entered our world and, as I am sure all parents can attest to, time is flying by. It seems like only yesterday that I was leaving work and heading downtown to see my tiny little men in the NICU at Sunnybrook. As a new dad, what I have found is that often major milestones are happening during the day (when Andrew and James are the most alert and energized) and so routinely I have missed out on the first <fill in the blank here>. What this has also led to in an unnerving feeling that I am not connecting with my sons the way that I would like to. Ultimately, the challenge is that somebody has to work in order to pay the <fill in the blank here> and ensure that our family is currently safe and comfortable and that we have as many opportunities as possible in the future.
I put this out there as a revolutionary idea, but something to consider (not that I have done any of the economics behind it as I will leave the to those who may critique it and have a better understanding of those things. What if, instead of working right now, I could trade this time for time later in life. For example, like taking 5 years of pension and RRSP savings up front and then working an additional 5 years later to pay back the system...wouldn't this be an idea (especially given the fact that most people in our generation do not anticipate full retirement until late 60s early 70s)?!?! It certainly would be a bargain I would be willing to make! Anyhow, I digress from my initial intent of this post. The point of my post is that missing these things has left a mark on my own comprehension of my abilities as a father and in some ways challenges how I react when parenting, possibly overcompensating for some slight twinge that I feel in my soul every time I walk out the door in the morning or get a glowing text about what amazing thing has happened in my absence.
I have heard about mother's guilt, and again, I don't presume to suppose that what I am discussing is in anyway equivalent, but I am simply saying it exists. Recently, this guilt reared its head during play time. Adrienne was out running errands and so I was entertaining both James and Andrew on the family room floor. We were carrying on quite well, giggling and smiling, the boys doing their best to share toys while dad did his best to share his attention. Then things turned. I got up to stretch my legs (apparently the ability to sit cross legged is something that you lose sometime after high school) and bonk, down went James. Now the logical me says, that was one of many bumps, bruises and bonks that there will be in his life, but as the tears welled up into his eyes, so to did that feeling of guilt. If I only get to spend x hours with my sons I don't want them to be painful hours...how could I let this happen...he is so upset, and as I comforted him and wiped the tears from his eyes, I couldn't help feeling that I had let him down. Again, the logical me knows this won't be the only time that I feel this way, but the first time it happens I can honestly say is heartbreaking. Now when Adrienne came home and I had a chance to share my story I quickly came to realize that this wasn't his first tumble, and that in fact, my wife was dealing with her own emotions around guilt and letting them down on a far more frequent basis. At the time, this was a small consolation for my bruised psyche or James' equally bruised noggin.
So my little men, I guess the lesson to be learned is this: no matter how hard you try to be there, you won't always be able to catch someone you care about before they fall. In reflecting on this situation, I can now see that at least I was there to comfort and hold you when I wasn't able to prevent something bad from happening. In fact, at certain points in your life, this will be a far more valuable point of intervention and support than preventing the fall in the first place. Some people believe that life is a collection of moments, but I would argue that it goes beyond a collection as each of these moments is interwoven in a way that when perceived from afar or in retrospect make it challenging to discern the individual moments from the grand mosaic of the whole experience. So, while I endeavour to be there for you during all of your moments, reality is that there will be times when I can't be and that perhaps, rather than dwell on that and lose sight of the greater purpose, it is more important to focus on all of the moments that we co-create and how they contribute to our bigger picture.
Love, Dad
I put this out there as a revolutionary idea, but something to consider (not that I have done any of the economics behind it as I will leave the to those who may critique it and have a better understanding of those things. What if, instead of working right now, I could trade this time for time later in life. For example, like taking 5 years of pension and RRSP savings up front and then working an additional 5 years later to pay back the system...wouldn't this be an idea (especially given the fact that most people in our generation do not anticipate full retirement until late 60s early 70s)?!?! It certainly would be a bargain I would be willing to make! Anyhow, I digress from my initial intent of this post. The point of my post is that missing these things has left a mark on my own comprehension of my abilities as a father and in some ways challenges how I react when parenting, possibly overcompensating for some slight twinge that I feel in my soul every time I walk out the door in the morning or get a glowing text about what amazing thing has happened in my absence.
I have heard about mother's guilt, and again, I don't presume to suppose that what I am discussing is in anyway equivalent, but I am simply saying it exists. Recently, this guilt reared its head during play time. Adrienne was out running errands and so I was entertaining both James and Andrew on the family room floor. We were carrying on quite well, giggling and smiling, the boys doing their best to share toys while dad did his best to share his attention. Then things turned. I got up to stretch my legs (apparently the ability to sit cross legged is something that you lose sometime after high school) and bonk, down went James. Now the logical me says, that was one of many bumps, bruises and bonks that there will be in his life, but as the tears welled up into his eyes, so to did that feeling of guilt. If I only get to spend x hours with my sons I don't want them to be painful hours...how could I let this happen...he is so upset, and as I comforted him and wiped the tears from his eyes, I couldn't help feeling that I had let him down. Again, the logical me knows this won't be the only time that I feel this way, but the first time it happens I can honestly say is heartbreaking. Now when Adrienne came home and I had a chance to share my story I quickly came to realize that this wasn't his first tumble, and that in fact, my wife was dealing with her own emotions around guilt and letting them down on a far more frequent basis. At the time, this was a small consolation for my bruised psyche or James' equally bruised noggin.
So my little men, I guess the lesson to be learned is this: no matter how hard you try to be there, you won't always be able to catch someone you care about before they fall. In reflecting on this situation, I can now see that at least I was there to comfort and hold you when I wasn't able to prevent something bad from happening. In fact, at certain points in your life, this will be a far more valuable point of intervention and support than preventing the fall in the first place. Some people believe that life is a collection of moments, but I would argue that it goes beyond a collection as each of these moments is interwoven in a way that when perceived from afar or in retrospect make it challenging to discern the individual moments from the grand mosaic of the whole experience. So, while I endeavour to be there for you during all of your moments, reality is that there will be times when I can't be and that perhaps, rather than dwell on that and lose sight of the greater purpose, it is more important to focus on all of the moments that we co-create and how they contribute to our bigger picture.
Love, Dad
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