Lessons from a Dad: Passing Down What I Learned

First-time parents aren’t actually “parents” in my estimation. Sure, they care for their infant children, protect them and rock away their tears. There’s still little of the nuts and bolts “parenting” I imagined that came with the gig.

How to throw a curveball. The best way to respond to a compliment. What to say when a boy asks you out on a date. Those tasks fall squarely on a parent’s “to do” list, moments when a father sits his son or daughter down to share life lessons. I thought I’d be Norman Rockwell-esque when it came time to deliver those speeches. Like everything else tied to fatherhood, it’s been a very rude awakening.  That doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying, though.

We’re living in fractured times, when social media means non-stop sniping and chums erupt in anger after spontaneous partisan fights. It’s why passing down societal basics means more to me now than ever. I hope it does to other parents, too.

Consider the following: Holding open a door for … anyone. Picking up your trash (and maybe random trash while you’re at it). Scoring the game-winning goal without shoving it in your opponents’ face. And, later, letting cars into your lane when they signal at just the right time.

These tiny moments happen to us all day long. We never think about them when our heads hit the pillow at night (unless one went horribly wrong). The actions happen, and just as quickly they slip from our minds.

I’m fixated on them all the same. They make our lives better in small but not inconsequential doses. These steps are like the oil that lubricates our society, making it run cleaner, faster, better. They suggest it isn’t all about us in an age when we too often disappear into our smart phones. Prioritizing the needs of complete strangers can be a beautiful thing. Without these behaviors our lives would be less pleasant. Maybe even downright surly.

Enter my two sons.

My oldest, age nine, is a good kid. He’s too addicted to his Kindle tablet, but he’s a fine boy who should grow into an equally solid adult. Our youngest, at seven, is a physical marvel who excels at too many sports to count.

As their father it’s my job, nay duty, to teach them these modest life lessons and make them stick. So far I’m batting well below the Mendoza line, for those baseball purists out there.  Charlie Sheen made the term “winning” famous for all of five minutes. Too often this Dad feels like he’s “losing.”

Both boys would rather let a door slam on a wheelchair bound senior than so much as glance behind them. They can’t be bothered picking up trash, even when it lands on their pillow. Too often, they need a fatherly nudge to say “thank you” when given a treat or nicety.

What’s a father to do? Keep trying, for starters. I feel broken record-y when I tell my boys to pick up their trash, but I say it all the same. I gently remind them why holding doors open for strangers matters, even as the ignored person shoots me the stink eye.

And, most importantly, I do all of the above myself when they’re watching. No matter how much I say on the subject that might be the most effective strategy … someday. Our children can’t help but emulate their parents. They may eventually hike their pants up the same way their father does or utter the same half-laugh after hearing a mediocre joke.

Our children remain sponges, soaking up far more than we can see with the naked eye. I’m reminded of this whenever we wrap another family movie night.

“It’s not a too-mah!”

“Snakes. Why did it have to be snakes?”

“Put zee candle beck!”

All it took was one time watching a classic movie and my boys are reciting the best lines for the next week. Maybe two. Surely, somewhere very deep inside, their father’s life lessons are setting into their psyche cement.

 

 

 

Share:

Facebook
Twitter
Pinterest
LinkedIn