Father's Footprints

Every Father’s Day I rewrite this essay about my dad.

On Mother’s Day, my mom's essay gets a lot of feedback. But, Dad's Day just doesn't measure up.

We don’t criticize dads. Their parenting efforts are often met with praise—because, frankly, we don’t expect that much of them.

I was a stay-at-home-day Dad for 10 years.

From birth through 6th grade, I pushed the stroller in public, changed the diapers, cleaned the house, and helped my daughter with school work.

Every day was Father’s Day to me but the stereotype that dads should get special recognition for pushing a stroller is nonsense and we need to raise the bar on Father’s Day.

Toxic masculinity is a hot topic these days and Father’s Day gifts aren’t spared any slack when it comes to the tie, the electric shaver, and the pipe I never got around to trying.

My Father’s Day was a quiet day managing the BBQ but men are after all solo, hairy creatures that live in caves, are good at fixing things, love sports, and dream about fishing.

On Father’s Day, the idea was to be manly and not get too emotional about it.

Sometimes I feel Father’s Day was put on the calendar to appease equal rights advocates.

According to Wikipedia, Father's Day was inaugurated in the United States in the early 20th century to complement Mother's Day in celebrating fathers, fathering, and fatherhood. Father's Day was founded in Spokane, Washington, at the YMCA in 1910 by Sonora Smart Dodd, who was born in Arkansas.

Happy Father’s Day, Mr. Dodd!

This brings me to my dad.

I can’t recall there being a Father’s Day because he wasn’t around when I was young. Bottom line it was a broken family.

Even if he was there I couldn’t follow in his footsteps that led into Right Wing politics, bigotry, and womanizing. I did follow in his footsteps through long periods of unemployment.

So there is that touchy-feely male bonding thing. Guys have a problem getting their arms around it (no pun intended).

Slap on the back, open a beer, and hit the hammock.

Lacking a father’s presence, it pains me to admit that I grew up with masculine identity issues. I call it the Zeus Energy syndrome.

The Greeks were familiar with it and wrote about it in many of their myths.

Hercules, the half-god/half-human, male child faced his hero journey alone. With a little help from magic dad, he defeated demons and walked the hall of apotheosis.

The hero journey of a fatherless son hasn’t changed in 2,000 years.

Fathers don’t simply abandon their families out of laziness or lack of love; they leave because they feel unworthy. Fathers go into parenthood with unrealistic standards, which ultimately sets them up for failure. — Why Fathers Leave Their Children by David Brooks

According to the U.S. Census Bureau, 18.3 million children, 1 in 4, live without a biological, step, or adoptive father in the home. There is a father factor in nearly all social ills facing America today. — Fatherhood.org

The modern world is more complicated than in ancient Greece.

Writer Robert Bly tried to bring men together in the 80s through his experimental Mythopoetic Men’s movement.

The movement was a body of self-help activities, therapeutic workshops, and retreats for men.

In these retreats, men would camp out, wear war paint, pound on drums, and hug each other.

Bly argued that “male energy” had been diluted by modern social institutions such as the feminist movement. Industrialization, and separation of fathers from family life through working outside the home.

In Bly’s book, he also introduced that releasing a man’s Zeus energy would bring him more in touch with his feminine half.

I tried Bly’s male bonding idea and my dad called me a fag.

But the bar for fatherhood is low so not many thought twice about my dad’s behavior.

Hard on a little guy’s ego are the mini moments you never forget. Like when you dropped out of baseball because you were the strike-out boy.

The other dads watched the game and gave their support. You were an embarrassment in your learning how to be a man.

I knew somewhere in there was my old dad — the flamboyant, humorous guy who sang along to Frank Sinatra.

In Dad’s senior years, he sported a straw hat, a short gray beard, and a cane.

As time wore on I looked a lot like him. Some say I acted like him too.

Our disagreements left questions, but I held no grudges and I hoped he felt the same.

Despite his mixed-up shortcomings, I loved my dad.

On his 81st birthday, he gave his infamous, playful, thumb on the nose- hang-loose cheer and said,

“Here’s to looking up your address!”

Happy Father’s Day