Father’s Pride

2008



Often in the past years, I have thought of how I would tell my kids how wonderful they truly are. Oh it isn’t that they don’t have a clue as to how I feel about them. It is that I feel a need to really spell out what it is that truly makes me feel the way I do about being a father to three of the best individuals I know.

Oh, I know, it seemingly smacks of sentimentalism, but it’s OK. They can take it once in a while. After all who better to tell them how really great they are but the one that spawned them.

My father was a good man. He worked hard often being away from home for months, working on a job that provided sustenance for the family. He too would have liked to have been home to enjoy the five of us siblings growing up. I can remember his less than often comments of pride and pleasure at having all of us kids around for a holiday or just being home for a visit. Coming home was always such a pleasure even though it was sometimes difficult for some of the older members to leave jobs, school or career to do so.

My memories are a bit foggy on some points, but not the one of having family around for the holidays. Mom baked and planned meals well in advance of the event. With the help of my sister, she was able to provide fantastic spreads of good nourishing food for all of us.

There was a lot of singing, laughing, playing board games (both homemade and store bought) the wash pan full of popcorn with plenty of hot chocolate or other hot drink. All helped with the chores or food preparation leaving more time to spend together sharing thoughts and concerns.

We always had snow for Christmas which really didn’t complicate anything. It just made it more enjoyable to be together.

My father married at the age of thirty two. I cannot say that I would recommend waiting that long but there is a certain amount of maturity present at that age that would most likely not be there previously. He died at the age of ninety two living a long and contented life.

I never really thought about having children of my own. I didn’t plan on it and would have been quite content not having any – so I thought. I never knew what I would have missed. My wife would have liked to run an orphanage or at least have a house full of children. I on the other hand would have preferred living out my life as a non parent not even enjoying the prospects of parenthood with other parents. After all I was a school teacher and that was all the kids I thought I could deal with.

How wrong I was!

There were many of life’s adventures that I was missing. Parenting was one of them.

Our daughter arrived a little earlier than expected. It was amazing how quickly routines changed, preferences replaced and now affections split between two of God’s beautiful creatures.

How would I cope?

How could I cope?

I was almost a basket case, as they say, but I survived when my wonderful Wife’s Mother arrived a few days later to take over the household chores with baby, mother and new father. What a transition that was. How caring and nurturing to us all.

Just out of the delivery room, my wife asked, “When can we have another one?” I was stunned, but really it should not have surprised me one bit. She loved children, as my mother had loved all of our family. I could now see the handwriting on the wall.

We adjusted to daughter who filled our home with childish jabber as well as a second feminine presence. She filled us both with such contentment, pride and joy that we were sure life was complete. We doted, fawned and certainly spoiled this bundle of wiggles. She was our star! New twinges of satisfaction appeared on the horizon. These would have to be kept in check. Others could only tolerate our showing off so long. We thrilled between ourselves, content that we now had the most perfect baby the world had ever seen.

Son number one bounced into the family after a very long journey half way around the world having us wondering if he would be born in Singapore or would we make it home. We barely arrived at our rented home in Modesto, CA November nineteen, 1975. Trenton arrived for our inspection November thirty. The mother’s nesting instinct was truly in a volatile phase.

Again we adjusted to one more member of our family. Now we were four. What happened? We started with two and now we had doubled the population. Trenton was a very busy child, keeping us all on our toes. He continues to be one very busy individual.

I relaxed knowing that now we had one of each and we were a happy, content, fulfilled and a complete family. But alas that was not to be. One more appeared! Surprise! Certainly one not planned for. The pressure mounted. How would I deal with another child in the house?

When son number two arrived it was a certainty that here was another of God’s creatures that was going to set new standards for the Johnson family. His quiet presence was like a balm. When I thought there were no more limits to pride, I was again accosted with the plight of sharing fatherly enjoyment and yes, downright pride.

Every child coming from the same source is different. No two are exactly alike. This maxim had never really played itself out within my sphere of influence before with such portent. I was pleasantly stunned by the three so totally different personalities we now had produced. Added to this mix were the personalities of the parents. We now had five unique totally different characters to deal with and three of them to help wiggle into helpful society.

To say they blend into society is a misnomer. None of them actually blend; they are full bodied strong personalities with pronounced opinions, plans of action, mental capacity and quiet aggressive disciplinary techniques of their own. What more could a father ask? I am content to see each offspring dealing with life with a full capacity of love, knowledge and concern for their fellow sibling as well as having enough compassion for those around them. Oh they are not perfect even though I still think they are. There is always room for improvement as there is for all of us. As we grow, hopefully we improve.

To say there is pride in my stature would be putting is quite simply. I stand taller because of my children. My step is a little higher and I am sure my countenance is a little brighter when they arrive on the scene or even when discussing them with others. It is difficult, “to put a lid on it” when talking about an offspring.

As my three children have grown, matured and found homes of their own, I have grown and matured along with them. No longer do I call it pride but more satisfaction in a tremendously well done job. Yes, pride is still there, but just looking at my children and their successful careers has brought about a truly satisfied contentment in this one father. It would be with some difficulty that I would be able to pretend to know how I would have changed any aspect of fathering. How could any one of my children turned out with any more charisma, talent, good looks or inherent abilities? To know them would be to love them and when it comes to that, how could I have asked for anything more.

Reflecting on my childhood, I now have more compassion for my father. His quiet demeanor and often seeming disinterest that I classified as not caring, has been replaced with a much larger image. He now looms over the home place with a face of absolute pride in each and every one of his children, each also unique, filling a slot in society that could not be filled by anyone else in any other way. Proud, yes, but perhaps I am a little better at not letting pride get in the way of each selected child’s potential.

My father had to have been a very special man, willing to put family first and letting pride fill in the cracks left behind by empty rooms and silent echoes of a once busy life with children.