Lessons Learned from Being a Son, Father, and Grandfather: Reflections for Father’s Day

I have reached a stage where I have been a son, a father, and a grandfather. I discovered each step has its lessons.

With Father’s Day, I want to share some of my life lessons if, for no other reason, they help me see myself clearer.

When I was born, I was the first child, which gives you a certain aura in your parents’ eyes. For a while (about 2.5 years), I was the center of attention.

One of the first pictures of me was of my father sitting on the front step of our house on Lincoln Drive in Abilene, cradled in his arms. Little did I realize that would define our relationship.

He would be special for many reasons. He took me fishing and was patient with a boy who snarled a fishing line that kept him from fishing. We attended football games together, and he quietly supported me in band and speech tournaments.

Looking back, I know that most sons have three different senses of their fathers, depending on their age.

When younger, you take them for granted.

They are always there, making a living and providing shelter, food, and clothing. No child thinks (or ought to think) about his security. His father is there doing it. Yet, that lesson impacted how I worked in my life, not for myself but for my family.

When older, you follow their lead.

In 1968, two events set fire to America. In April of that year, the first saw Martin Luther King, Jr. gunned down on a Memphis hotel balcony by a white bigoted monster.

In early June, an Arab sympathizer assassinated Robert Kennedy, who had buried his brother, who had died in the same way a few years before.

We watched the funeral in grainy black-and-white on television. In one spot, my brother asked, “You would die for us, wouldn’t you?” He didn’t have to answer, although I am sure he did. We both knew.

Later, I watched as my mother became bedridden, and she entered first an assisted living center followed by a nursing home. My dad spent every day with her. Without learning something, you don’t miss that kind of care for a wife.

Fathers get watched more than they think and more than they want. Children learn that the good covers the flaws they have. Fortunately, it’s the good that gets remembered the most.

Finally, in later life, you miss them.

My dad passed away at Christmas time a decade ago. His death came without warning as a stroke felled him. I felt stunned, and I still do.

I always think about him and wish I could ask for advice. Then I look deep inside and realize how much he already gave me.

For younger people, enjoy and appreciate your father, who will soon be gone. For fathers, realize eyes watch, and hearts get changed.

Happy Father’s Day.