Three years ago I got a wake up call from my daughter that challenged me to face everything and change my life. To be a man. She told me that as a father, I had failed.
The wake up call came on an ordinary Thursday afternoon in the cluttered vestibule we call the Drop Off. My older daughter Hope was leaving for college. A grown up young woman heading with mixed emotions to RU, 200 miles away and her parents’ alma mater, both physically and emotionally closer to home she would have preferred. Thinking back on it now, there had to be SOMETHING spurring her on (anger) to be blunt with me in a way she had been before. There was one of our typical family squabbles going on. Her pre-pubescent sister Dodie was causing a fuss in her usual manner – foot dragging, sulking, or outright defiance – and my wife Jean, the reliable dispenser of swift justice had called off the fun family outing we’d envisioned. Nobody was going ANYWHERE fun because Dodie had ruined it – again. I let this scenario play out – again. Hope turned to me, looked me squarely in the eyes, and said “You know Dad, you have let us down, again. Mom’s mad, and she has reason to be, but Dodie and I have needed you to take care of us. We’ve needed you to stand up for us. But you haven’t. You just don’t.”
My heart was pierced. Me, a bad father? Could it be???? I had to listen to what she was saying. I knew I needed to DO something. But what? Pay attention. Take care of my girls. But Hope was headed to college – flying the roost. As far as I could tell it was too late for me to change my parenting style and make a difference for her (wrong!), but Dodie was a different story. She was twelve, a budding teenager, a hellion, a ball of fire, the thorn in my wife’s side, a charmer, an award-winning pianist who no longer played, and an accomplished equestrian who was losing interest in staying with THAT passion despite our investments. While the wake up call came from Hope, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that I had time to change, time to get involved, time to be the man – the father – the Dad that Dodie deserved. I had no idea WHAT to do, but I knew I needed to make a change. Little did I know that it would change my entire life.
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
For my fellow man: a dedication
Last month my friend John, his brain ravaged with cancer, exhorted me to write and publish the things we've talked about..."for my fellow man".
It was powerful to hear this from John, who frequently can't retain or completely express his thoughts. Up until last year John was a successful real estate developer. He is one of several friends I have learned so much from as I have slowly openned myself up to close male relationships. I stand on his shoulders and others, as a man finally growing up (in my 50's!). I feel more energy in my life today as a result of leaning on these guys, learning to listen, to share, and to open myself to real relationships.
For some time now I've felt called to share the joy close male relationships with a larger circle. John and I, along with a few friends have shared some exciting journeys over the past couple years. John's exhortation to me was a reminder of a calling I've shared with him over the past couple years to write about that journey. The things he and I have spoken about might benefit "our fellow man” through the written word.
So I started writing, perched in the guest room of my friend Horace. I'd been fired from my job a month earlier, was on the verge of divorce from my wife of 28 years, and had moved out. I've been feeling confused and asking God to help make sense of it all. Maybe writing will help.
My aspiration is to share a story that some may actually be interested in reading. Not a mushy feelings girly story (OK there may be some of that), but an adventure story of a man’s battles.
When John challenged me to write “for my fellow man”, I knew who he meant.
My Fellow Man
You are Mark who joined our renewal group several months ago. Linking arms with Gary and me in loving John through his disease. Meeting weekly to go out for lunch, and then when lunch got to be too difficult for our friend, shifting to a late afternoon hiatus when John's energy was strongest. Mark you have lifted me up with your stronger faith, and have encouraged me to share my trials through your curiosity about my broken marriage.
You are Gary who taught me to be the boy scout I never was. Gary you stepped up to be a true brother to me.
You are David, the brother with whom I grew up so unsteadily. Our parents didn't draw limits for you or protect me. My only blood brother in whom I see reflections of myself that I love and that I wish to transcend.
You are Horace, whose guest room I so gratefully occupied when my wife and I separated…again. Horace your devotion to your wife and kids (normal and disabled) led you ahead of me down the path of awakening, separation, elevation, then peace.
John, David, Gary, and Mark - my story is your story. My prayer is that my story is helpful to you.
It was powerful to hear this from John, who frequently can't retain or completely express his thoughts. Up until last year John was a successful real estate developer. He is one of several friends I have learned so much from as I have slowly openned myself up to close male relationships. I stand on his shoulders and others, as a man finally growing up (in my 50's!). I feel more energy in my life today as a result of leaning on these guys, learning to listen, to share, and to open myself to real relationships.
For some time now I've felt called to share the joy close male relationships with a larger circle. John and I, along with a few friends have shared some exciting journeys over the past couple years. John's exhortation to me was a reminder of a calling I've shared with him over the past couple years to write about that journey. The things he and I have spoken about might benefit "our fellow man” through the written word.
So I started writing, perched in the guest room of my friend Horace. I'd been fired from my job a month earlier, was on the verge of divorce from my wife of 28 years, and had moved out. I've been feeling confused and asking God to help make sense of it all. Maybe writing will help.
My aspiration is to share a story that some may actually be interested in reading. Not a mushy feelings girly story (OK there may be some of that), but an adventure story of a man’s battles.
When John challenged me to write “for my fellow man”, I knew who he meant.
My Fellow Man
You are Mark who joined our renewal group several months ago. Linking arms with Gary and me in loving John through his disease. Meeting weekly to go out for lunch, and then when lunch got to be too difficult for our friend, shifting to a late afternoon hiatus when John's energy was strongest. Mark you have lifted me up with your stronger faith, and have encouraged me to share my trials through your curiosity about my broken marriage.
You are Gary who taught me to be the boy scout I never was. Gary you stepped up to be a true brother to me.
You are David, the brother with whom I grew up so unsteadily. Our parents didn't draw limits for you or protect me. My only blood brother in whom I see reflections of myself that I love and that I wish to transcend.
You are Horace, whose guest room I so gratefully occupied when my wife and I separated…again. Horace your devotion to your wife and kids (normal and disabled) led you ahead of me down the path of awakening, separation, elevation, then peace.
John, David, Gary, and Mark - my story is your story. My prayer is that my story is helpful to you.
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