The phrase, Like father, Like son can have many different meanings to many different people. I have it tattooed on my shoulder to remind me that I am like my father.
How we are raised influences us in so many different ways and as you become a parent you can’t help but look back on the actions of your Mom and Dad. You see them in a new light and judge them less harshly than you may have when you were a teenager.
How my Dad raised my siblings and I has no doubt effected the person that I am today. From him I learned a great deal about being a man and although likely not his intention at the time, I’ve learned a lot about being a Dad.
It was 13 years ago today that we lost my dad in a shocking and traumatizing way. That event, and the subsequent years of police investigations, trials, re-trials and parole hearings completely shattered our family and forced us to rebuild ourselves.
It was in that rebuilding that I took a long hard look at who I wanted to be and what I wanted to be. The thought that floated to the top more than any other again and again was happy. I want to be happy.
That thought has driven my actions for the last 10 years or so and is one of the reasons I am a stay-at-home Dad (SAHD) now. I want to be happy and being with my daughter makes me happy. Watching her grow makes me happy.
Wanting happiness however, doesn’t mean that I was prepared to be a Dad let alone a SAHD. It was my father that prepared me for that.
I loved my Dad. In a lot of ways, I’m like him. I sound like him, I’ve got his red hair, his receding hair line, his fiery temper, his desire to start a family, and his desire to leave a legacy that lasts long after we’re gone.
My Dad had dreams where he looked forward to being a Grandpa. He dreamed of having the grandkids over where he joked he’d grow a long pony tail and be the “cool, weird grandpa.”
The memories of holidays, playing catch in the back alley, talking, questioning, and even fighting have prepared me to raise my daughter.
While I don’t have the ability to pick his brain now or ask him what it was like having a 20-month-old son with diabetes with another son on the way, I have the lessons he tried to teach me for more than 22 years.
I get a lot of things from my Dad – after all like father, like son – and while I’m not happy about all of them (where the hell is all my hair going?!?!) I’m incredibly proud to be his son and to raise my daughter with the lessons that he taught me and that I was too stubborn to learn until many years later.
Thanks Dad, I miss you.
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