...I somehow knew that I would be a father some day. I just assumed it was part of being a man. And this was not because of any particular thing my own father did for me or said to me when I was little, although he was a loving father and maybe even a bit more demonstrative than his peers. When I stop to think about it, maybe the notion was rooted in all those TV dads, on shows like "Ozzie and Harriet", "My Three Sons", "Leave it to Beaver", or "The Donna Reed Show". Just a guess. I may never know.
It wasn't that I thought a great deal about it along the way, mind you; it was just that I took it for granted I would help raise children some day. When I finally did meet my future wife, it's a funny family story that when we started becoming a couple, she told me explicitly and adamantly that 1) she had no intention of ever getting married, and 2) she was never having kids. Me being 25 at the time, my reaction was, hell, that's just fine, but I did wind up being the one to propose marriage and, not too long after, I was also the one to ask, how about us having a baby?
Well, people change, and, when the time for each was right, she got into both marriage and motherhood. And, of course, so did I. We've been together for 37 years now, and we raised two beautiful, smart kids. I'm not going to say it was all unicorn rides under rainbows along the way, but I really did have a lot of wonderful times with them as they grew up, and, knock on wood, they seem like they feel likewise.
But now, like all parents, we have to adjust to the fact that they have lives of their own, and they will make their own way in the world, complete with mistakes, doubt, and pain.
From all I've seen and understood, Teri and I are struggling with this transition about as much as other parents do, and we're coming to accept the changes about as well as others do, too. But the hardest aspect for me is that being a good father was a huge part of how I defined myself. How I STILL define myself. And a huge part of that was - is - my pride in my children.
But it's not their lot in life to make me proud. They may make choices that appall me, and maybe others that delight me. But these will be their own choices. Their lives.
THIS is the hardest part for me to accept.
It wasn't that I thought a great deal about it along the way, mind you; it was just that I took it for granted I would help raise children some day. When I finally did meet my future wife, it's a funny family story that when we started becoming a couple, she told me explicitly and adamantly that 1) she had no intention of ever getting married, and 2) she was never having kids. Me being 25 at the time, my reaction was, hell, that's just fine, but I did wind up being the one to propose marriage and, not too long after, I was also the one to ask, how about us having a baby?
Well, people change, and, when the time for each was right, she got into both marriage and motherhood. And, of course, so did I. We've been together for 37 years now, and we raised two beautiful, smart kids. I'm not going to say it was all unicorn rides under rainbows along the way, but I really did have a lot of wonderful times with them as they grew up, and, knock on wood, they seem like they feel likewise.
But now, like all parents, we have to adjust to the fact that they have lives of their own, and they will make their own way in the world, complete with mistakes, doubt, and pain.
From all I've seen and understood, Teri and I are struggling with this transition about as much as other parents do, and we're coming to accept the changes about as well as others do, too. But the hardest aspect for me is that being a good father was a huge part of how I defined myself. How I STILL define myself. And a huge part of that was - is - my pride in my children.
But it's not their lot in life to make me proud. They may make choices that appall me, and maybe others that delight me. But these will be their own choices. Their lives.
THIS is the hardest part for me to accept.
