The moment I saw you, I loved you. You came from love that lived in your mother and I. I was there from the beginning. You were so small, so frail and beautiful. You gave me instant joy. And instant fear. I was responsible for a living human person. You looked to me to feed, clothe, and house you. That was just the basics. It was stil pretty daunting, since I was barely into my second decade of living, myself. I was a grown man, technically, but still so very much a child also. I was still learning how to do some pretty basic stuff. I was a greenhorn on the trail of life. My work ethic, sense of responsibility, and general opinions on everything had barely begun to form. Now I have a human to raise. That’s true fear.
I messed up a lot. When I was working too much, I felt like I should be home more. When I was home for very long, I felt guilty for either not working enough to provide for you, or that I wasn’t raising you right. I always felt like whatever I did, it wasn’t enough. I wanted you to have everything in life you needed, and most of what you wanted. It seemed there were always times when I couldn’t afford it or didn’t have enough free time for it. There was always an “it” that I couldn’t provide. My mind tied itself up in knots over those “it’s”. I was always forcing you to lower your bar and “settle” for something less. Something I could afford. The off-brand shoes, the generic cereals, or the “Mountain Lightening” sodas were a regular part of your life. More often than not, you were forced to “settle”.
It wasn’t for lack of trying. I did shift work in factories most of my life. I just had a high school education and had to “settle” for the best jobs I could get my hands on. Long hours were the only path to more income, and I did that for a very long time. There were many weeks that went by, in which you barely even got to see me, much less play with me. I wasn’t trying to get rich, just to get enough to get by on. Sometimes it happened. Sometimes it did not.
I tried to spend time with you. Play with you. Teach you things. Sometimes it was just playing “
cowboy bronco busting” in the living room floor, with you riding my back. I was definitely younger back then. On some rare moments, we went camping, or fishing. I tried to read to you at bedtime. Since I’d always been an avid reader, that was my favorite thing to do with you. It was also the cheapest way to take you on adventures too far away, magical realms. You seemed to enjoy that, too. I know I did. I especially loved making up all the character voices along the way, and listening to you laugh.
I tried to teach you the important things, too. Responsibility. Work ethic. Love your neighbor. Care for your pets and show respect for your elders. Be honest. Be nice. They’re all important, but life can be hard to teach, in the practical world. The theoretical always runs into the “rubber meets the rode” scenario and makes all of those things harder to implement. I think you learned pretty well, in spite of my inexperience and ineptitude. You turned out to be a pretty great human being anyway.
It took me decades to find out that my own dad was just a guy doing his best with what he had in front of him. I look back at my own childhood and am so amazed at how much he did with what he started out with. He had less education that I did, worked for less money a lot of the time, and still kept his kids in the dark as to how hard it was to raise a family. He was a strong man. He protected us. He put our needs first and probably put his own on the back burner most all of the time. He played ball with us and came to our games when we played organized sports. He took us camping, hunting and fishing. He tried his best to teach us right from wrong. He was a good dad. Even if he was just an ordinary guy doing his best. Just like me.
For all of the times I fell short; for all of the clothes I made you wear; for all of the times I wasn’t there, but wanted to be and for all of the mistakes I made along the way, I am so very sorry. I wish I could’ve done more. Done better. Given you more. You deserved the moon and stars and more. If I could’ve given you all of those things with just the love in my heart for you, you would’ve had them all. I wanted you to have them, even when I made you “settle”.
To Timothy and Cody: you are both doing fantastic jobs at being dads. You’re better than you think, and much better than I’d hoped to be at your ages. Keep up the good work. I couldn’t be prouder. To all of you: Christopher, Candice, Micheal, Timothy and Cody, know this: I love you all more than myself. I’ve watched you grow into adults of the highest caliber. I’d like you, even if I didn’t know you, and if I were just now getting to know you, I’d still love you. You all turned out to be exceptional human beings. I had a hand in some of that, but you took the ball and ran with it. Now I enjoy watching on the sidelines as you run your own races in life. Don’t be too hard on yourselves if you fall sometimes. Everyone does it at times. It’ll be okay. If you need someone to talk to afterwards, I’m here. Who knows? I probably fell like that once, myself. Give me a holler. I’ll tell you all about it.
Happy Father’s Day to all of you ordinary guys out there. Just know that it’s all worth it.
God bless y’all.
Rolling Stones 