“Whoever does not have a good father should procure one.” ~Friedrich Nietzsche

The importance of having a dad around should not be underestimated.  You can read studies that say a kid is not affected if he is raised without a father present in the home. Another study will say he is doomed for life. And still another study will say if he never had a father, to begin with, it just doesn’t matter. So… a father, doesn’t matter?

Surveys are always an interesting conundrum for me. I don’t always fully understand the purpose they serve. Sometimes, I don’t think the folks doing the research fully appreciate the ramifications of the studies outcome. They complete the study, and collect their grant money and move along. The study then just shows up. Some special interest group paid for that study to be done. And there it is. Somewhere in cyberspace, or quoted in a paper or magazine. The new “gospel” according to that particular study. Eat tomatoes, don’t eat tomatoes…eat fish, don’t eat fish. Sleep a child on their back, no, maybe their side is better. No, on second thought, really the back is better…The studies that tell us if we like the President, or don’t like the President.

I am more of a go outside and feel the weather than trust in the weatherman kind of gal. I’ll hear what he says but ultimately make my own decision. Same with surveys. I take them now with a grain of salt, thanks to some highly educated College Professors. Statistics are what they eat for breakfast! People in the know. They set me straight on studies, and therefore have set me free. When reading the results, dig deeper. Demographics, numbers of actual participants in the study, types of subjects in studies, differentials in the study group, etc.

The whole point of this article is the importance of having a dad around.  So… a father, doesn’t matter? Tell that to at least two of my friends whose father died way too soon, when they were young girls, and they needed a dad the most. Tell it to the widow who is suddenly going through life without her partner. Say it to the little boy who dreams of one day being a great Dad. And tell it to the millions of dads on the front lines of humanity every day protecting and fighting for their families and ours.

To some dads, fatherhood comes easy. They waited for it, hungered for it, and embraced it. If they could have, they would have given birth… O.K., I digress… even that one makes me laugh… Easy for a man to say he would have given birth until you are actually straddled into position on a delivery table! I think God gave that job to women for a reason…

To other dads, fatherhood was a bit more challenging. They did not have the nurturing gene and was perhaps over-mothered, and under-fathered. Or perhaps, fatherhood was not his dream. More of an “I’ll deal with that when it comes,” kind of guy.

I have been in the presence of some pretty wonderful dads. My brothers excel in the task, my father was not too shabby, and friends that I have known my whole life are brilliant at it. Great fathers exist throughout the world. My husband of 31 years takes the father crown. I know it is a biased opinion, but it is my article, and I can say that!

He did not fit the first description of fatherhood or even the second description. Fatherhood was not something he gave lots of thought to. Oh sure, he knew kids were in our future. He was a tag along with me on many a nanny job before we were ever married. He saw me mother my siblings. He came from a big family. I came from a big family. He knew I wanted a big family of my own. He was splendid with kids, and they took to him. Still, he never thought he would be a great father. He always felt he had too many hang-ups to give to another. God had other plans and placed his trust in my husband, and that trust paid off. God gifted us with five children. One did not survive past her first day on earth. And my husband? He survived it all. Horrible high-risk pregnancies were full of worry. He made it through. He is a terrific dad. I could not do my job without him. Yin and Yang…Bogart and Bacall… Lucy and Ricky…Scarlet and Rhett…We are a famous duo in our home, and we need each other to operate. Together we make a whole. Our kids never know from day to day who we are, or how silly we will be, but we have found a way to connect and make it work…for us.

My husband will beg to differ and say “She can do it all. They don’t need me.” But alas, I will argue he is wrong. We do need him, and my kids need a dad.

From the beginning, he changed, and burped, and read to the children. He does silly rocket ship launches with babies, and he can let a kid get all contorted on the play ground without worry. Like the children, he finds “potty” humor hilarious, but knows better than to get me involved. He goes over homework with little people and gives his constant input to teenagers. He can hold foreheads nice and tight when a kid is throwing up in the toilet, and when his pregnant wife is doing the same. He can teach a child to throw a ball, and teach the fundamentals of any sport. He can brush hair and make a ponytail, and he can even sometimes braid it. He does not complain when he has to get out of a warm bed for early school drop offs. He volunteers in classrooms and does the stuff moms don’t want to. He will go to school and stay until the last chair is folded and put away at any event. He never misses his kids in anything they do. Never. He is not afraid to cry at funerals, and he never tells his son to buck up and take it like a man. He wants to be a part of the kid’s lives. He embraces the family, and appreciates a lot of our traditions; and insists on church attendance as a family. He knows the work it takes for both of us to make our family unit succeed. And day after day, he steps up to the plate.

You would never know by watching, that nurturing our family did not come naturally.

But then again, I think it did more than he cares to admit. I find when my husband just follows his heart; he is at his best. As a trained pilot, he tends to over-analyze. But as the years have gone by, I have seen a new spirit come forth. More relaxed, more trusting of the universe, more willing to let go and let God. In essence; a very good dad. He is often the kinder of the two of us. He is more sympathetic to the children. When they want something that they feel I will say no to, they just go to dad and he usually caves with a hearty “yes”. He often feels guilty if the children are unhappy, but the tough mom in me straightens that out pretty quickly. We balance a fine tightrope of a walk in life. I am not sure he will ever learn to cook, but I can live with that considering what he does do around here!

Fathers, in general, get the short straw in accolades but deserve far more credit than we give them. Television is full of the bumbling “idiot” dads that no one respects. The wife and children put him down at all costs. But why? What happened to Marcus Welby, Mike Brady, Ward Cleaver, Cliff Huxtable, Charles Ingles, and the countless other TV fathers we adored? When did it become O.K., to portray the father as a blithering idiot? I yearn for the days of yesteryear when Dad could be funny and well respected all at the same time.

I often think of the Dad’s I know who spend time with their kids. The unsung heroes. They work fulltime outside the home, and again inside the home. They cook, they clean, rake, and they shovel. They juggle schedules and prioritize it all for the sake of their family. They split a full 50/50 with their wives, and sometimes take on 70/30 and even 100 percent at times for the good of her career. Some are the most amazing Grandfathers, and some are just “Uncles” waiting in the wings to someday have families of their own.

I see a lot of my dad in my husband. Quick to temper, but the first to melt at the site of his kid doing something great. No patience in life, but the patience of a saint when it comes to teaching a child to tie their shoe for the first time. Not much tolerance for “stupid” behavior in adults, but forgiving beyond measure when it is a child. My dad allowed us to fall,  but usually came around to pick us up again. His love was un-conditional, and when my mother left our home with still seven of us living there, it was my dad who stepped up to the plate to keep it all together. My dad departed this earth in 2008 from Lewy Body Dementia.  His short term memory was gone, but the best of our families memories were still active in his mind. For that I am happy. Those were the best of times, and those are the times he should remember best!

Celebrate the Dad(s) in your life!