Any Day Can Be Fathers Day
By Steven Crandel
A simple idea that spreads warmth and understanding across the generations.
Good fathers often seem like bricks and mortar. Always there. Dependable. Steadfast. Solid
But guess what? We’re just sons who grew up and had children. And though we do our best to be brick-like, we also need emotional connection as much as anyone.
To help that along, here’s an idea to try with your father.
The idea is simple: honest appreciation can be a step towards closeness. Most dads, even distant ones, usually have contributed in some way to their children.
And most dads love their children — even if they don’t often say it. They long to have a chance to be close to their children, just as their children long to be close to them.
Research also supports the importance of fathers connecting with their children. In Raising Boys (1997) Steve Biddulph, Australia’s parenting guru, writes this:
“Boys with absent fathers are statistically more likely to be violent, get hurt, get into trouble, do poorly in schools and be members of teenage gangs in adolescence. Fatherless daughters are more likely to have low self-esteem, to have sex before they really want to, to be assaulted and not continue their schooling.”
Clearly, there’s a lot at stake for children and fathers. A statement of appreciation can provide an open door to more communication.
Here’s how it worked for me. I decided to write a letter and fax it to my 75 year-old father. This is part of what I wrote:
“I’m thinking of a gift you’ve given me, Dad. The gift of giving…. Giving lends meaning to my life — whether I’m giving my time or my love or my empathy or my money. .. You have always been a benchmark of generosity for me. . . ”
“A man who put personal interaction ahead of personal gain . . . So thank you. I love you dearly. And I will never forget the simple lesson that you have shown me: that giving is receiving, and that receiving in this way makes me richer than any king.”
The next day I got a fax in reply. My dad wrote:
“I don’t usually write ‘you’re welcome’ notes, but you, my beloved son, stir my heart when you write …Do you have any idea of the pride and joy having you as a son has brought me? . . . Your love warms me and your devotion to your boys reminds me of how much better a father I could have been.”
Well, that day happened to be my son Isaac’s ninth birthday. And I didn’t see the fax from my dad until the evening. When I read it, tears came into my eyes. Isaac came up to me.
He asked me why I was crying.
I told him I was happy. He looked confused. So I read him the letter, and between sniffles, explained that it was really good to feel my father’s love and approval. He nodded and then went away to play.
That evening, as I tucked him in bed, I told Isaac I was remembering his birth nine years ago. I told him I was amazed at how he’d grown and developed. I told him I was proud of the person he was, and I told him how much I liked and loved him, exactly the way he was.
Being me, I got tears in my eyes again. And this time, I noticed Isaac had tears in his eyes too. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. I understood.
In my experience, the gift of honest appreciation is perhaps the greatest of all gifts. For it acknowledges and validates the other person, and sometimes starts a chain reaction of warmth and kindness and love that can reach across the generations.
Next: Fathers After Separation
