So, this father's day weekend, I was thinking about my own father. I realized that 28 years ago, my father was the same age as I am now. I was only a year older than my daughter is now. He had separated from the family he had moved in with a few years earlier. I think largely, he had come to decide that he had neglected his son and his own life for that matter for people that didn't seem to appreciate anything he tried to do for them. The most heart breaking thing for him was feeling as though he had not taken care of me.
He was living in his "office." It was a rented room in a multi-story commercial building. There was a shower in the men's room down the hall, so he just lived in his office. That Saturday evening we listened to "Prairie Home Companion" on the radio as we had every Saturday we were together for years. We talked for a long time after the show was over before he settled in on his couch and I on the floor.
That would be his last father's day on the earth and one of the last weekends I ever spent with him. I do miss my dad, of course. But, this is actually a good memory. I'm not sure I have any bad memories of my dad, other than him being gone when I needed him as a young man.
Possibly the greatest gift my father, and mother for that matter, gave me was the gift of transparency. One of my cousins, who is enough older than me to have been able to see who I was as a person when I was little, has reminded me that I was very opinionated and one to debate my parents. Maybe that's why they stopped telling me what to do at such an early age. Maybe that was never their style, I don't know. But, for some time, their teaching was done more by example. My dad would talk me through things. He would explain how a person could handle a situation and why it would work out well. But neither of them told me what to do. They had very few expectations on me except to do my best in everything I did and my desire to please them kept me on my toes.
But, as I said, it was transparency that they gave me. They allowed me to watch them live. My dad was very clear about his mistakes and failings with me. He was often a little past tense in his teaching. He would ask me if I remembered certain things that had happened to our family. Then he would tell me how he could have done better. He was devastated that he and my mom couldn't get through the pain of losing a son. He was never completely sure if and how their marriage could have been saved. But he did own up to his role in their declining relationship.
My mom was equally transparent. Some might have looked at ours as an unhealthy relationship. Admittedly, it was a little different. But, it worked. For a period of time, we were pretty isolated from the world together. During that time, we commiserated. I became her confidant and encourager. From then on, she would talk through decisions and wonder about life and relationships. She wasn't as much looking for feedback as she was letting me observe. She was allowing me to watch and learn. And she was honest too when she didn't know if she was making the right choices.
They both helped me to become the man I am today. It looked a little different. It could be said that I basically raised myself from an early age. I still don't completely get why that worked out the way it did. But, I do know that they both made sure that I had plenty to learn from. If nothing else, they were willing to reflect honestly and ask me to learn from their mistakes.
For that, I will always be grateful.