A father's pride is priceless...

I was talking to my mom about a week ago, when she commented on my dad's opinion of a picture of Jacob and I at his baptism.  My dad notice Jacob's arm on my shoulder and a smile on his face as if to say "this is my daddy, and he's my best friend!".  For dad, it was a testament to the job I've been doing with Jacob.  But then he expressed how proud he was of me.  Now, my dad has said this to me on a number of occasions over the past year, but maybe part of me just felt it was a passive form of encouragement.  A "keep up the good work" so to speak.  But the fact that he said it when I wasn't even around, for some reason, has resonated with me.

As a child of the 80's, my relationship with my dad was authoritative.  There was no worse feeling then knowing mom was going to discuss something I did with my father when he got home.  I can't recall exactly when it started, but all he had to do was touch his belt and I would straighten up fast!  He did what he could to be involved while I was growing up.  He was a pack leader for my cub scout troop (in which I was a complete disappointment, mostly due to lack of effort on my part) and he coached several of my little league teams.  As I got older, I began to see my dad as a hard working but emotionally disconnected family man.  That was, until, he became a grandfather.  I don't know what it is with men and their grandkids.  But my dad turns into a puddle around Jacob, and a side of him I never knew existed is exposed.  But more to the point, for the first time in my life I see genuine pride when he looks at me.  I didn't see it at high school graduation, or college commencement, or even on my wedding day.  Perhaps that's because academic and social success were just expected of me.  But apparently watching me with Jacob has had somewhat of a profound effect on the man.  Based on his remarks, I think it's because I'm doing something he doesn't think he could have done himself.  Maybe that's true, maybe it's not.  But regardless my dad is proud of me, and that pride has been a source of strength for me lately.

 

I get by with a little help from my friends...

I just got home from a dinner party hosted by two of my dearest friends that my son attended with me.  I've always found it somewhat stressful to take Jacob away from home for too long.  Like most 11 month olds, he gets bored easily and can get cranky.  However, I think the majority of the issues are my own, in that I feel most in control when I'm at home with him.  But I've also come to realize my closest friends not only understand, but they also want to help.

Having a child, in many ways, helps to clear your slate of people that simply don't matter in the scheme of things. We call them fair weather friends.  But those people that are left standing in your life are those that make single parenting possible.  It's generally a much shorter list of people, but those friends are willing to help you through hard times, lend a hand when needed and be a source of emotional support without asking for anything in return. They are a network that can be leaned on at a moments notice and are fundamentally necessary for survival, especially early on.

I have countless stories about how my network has saved me over the past year.  One friend (we'll call him Tender) allowed Jacob and I to move in with his family for a week while I was transitioning homes right after my separation.  Another (we'll call him Hustle), having gone through divorce himself, has been a source of emotional guidance for me and I don't think I would be as far along as I am without him.  Others have listened to me ramble on for hours about the issue du jour or about how Jacob just wouldn't fall asleep last night.  The point being that my attitudes toward single parenting, and the success I'm having with it, are being driven by those people that matter most in my life.  I can honestly say I would be nowhere without my best friends.  And for that I am forever indebted to them.

Once upon a time...

Ah, those famous four words that mark the beginning of history's greatest stories.  Of course, I don't recall those words being used at the beginning of "The Lion King", which happens to be one of my favorite stories.  I always thought it was a good movie, but I think some of the underlying themes can really resonate with guys raising little boys.  I guess you could say it's a well known story that, for dads, becomes new again because of the prospective that fatherhood brings.  As a kids movie, it's only appropriate that most see it from the prospective of Simba, whose coming-of-age story is the crux of the film.  But I think dads have an easier time identifying with Mufasa.  With his deep and authoritative voice (James Earl Jones, need I say more?), Mufasa was a source of guidance and discipline for his young cub.  He was Simba's teacher, his role model and his friend.  But I think, more than anything else, Mufasa was Simba's hero.  We know this because Mufasa's influence in Simba's life is around long after he is gone.  Since the day my son was born, I decided that I wanted to be his hero.  Little did I know how this simple idea would shape my entire way of thinking as I moved through heartbreak, acceptance and ultimate resurgence in the face of my divorce.


Divorce is a complicated and emotional matter.  Factor in children, and that complication is compounded.  With very young children, it's compounded by a factor of ten.  This is the one and only time I plan to discuss anything related to the divorce itself, and I'm doing so for two reasons.  It will explain how I got to this point in my life and it will provide some context around the growth process I've experienced since I became a single father.  My ex-wife had an affair, the details of which are not important.  What is important is that it brought to light the fact that she and I had drifted apart.  While her affair was ultimately the reason we split, I am not without fault.  Like many marriages, ours had fallen into a state of complacency.  I was a good husband, but in hindsight there are things I could have done better.  There always are I think.  After the smoke cleared and the divorce was well underway, I decided to use the experience as a growth opportunity.  And that starts with accepting some responsibility for the failed marriage.  In doing so, I learned more about myself than I ever thought would be possible.  I learned that I'm stronger then I ever thought I could be.  I learned what true friendship really means.  I learned what it means to be humbled.  I learned that I don't have to be perfect.  I learned that, even though I doubt myself sometimes, I am a good man and that I will make the right decisions when my back is against the wall.  Most importantly, I learned I'm a great father and that it is possible to love someone so much that you would lay down your own life for them.


Shortly after my separation, I decided to pick myself up, dust myself off and embrace my new life as my son's hero.  I forgave my ex for her mistakes, and accepted my own for what they were.  Doing so provided a sense of clarity that simply wouldn't have been possible otherwise.  And that clarity has been the catalyst for the healing and growth I've experienced both as a man and as a father. 


My successive posts will be about my life as a single dad and how, even in the face of adversity, staying positive and focusing on a future full of hope can provide all my son and I need to move forward.