Another Fatherless Father’s Day
Father’s Day—probably one of the manliest days of the year when beards are worn proudly, the craziest ties are gifted, and meats everywhere are being barbequed. There is no denying the sweet emotions shared and exchanged on this special day. Men work diligently year round to provide for their families—not out of obligation, but out of the true desire in their hearts to express love to their family the way they always thought it should be...the way they always wished it would be.
Now with our own families we have the opportunity to live and love—letting go of what didn’t work in our family-of-origin with the idea that what does work will come naturally.
Sadly, this isn’t always the case and it’s easy to overlook how difficult in can be for some who have grown up without a father, had a difficult relationship with their father, or who have lost their father. I personally fall into the latter two categories.
This will be my second Father’s Day with my beautiful wife and young daughter, as well as my second fatherless Father’s Day. Although I can’t say Father’s Days have always been easy, the last two years in particular are especially difficult because of my dad’s passing after a brave battle with leukemia. It has been a crazy roller coaster as I try and figure out how to be a father and a husband, without having a father by my side.
I am not sure how many generations of men in my family have been “fatherless” in the sense of having children themselves but growing up, as my father often put it, “learn[ing] how to be a father without having had a father.” Although this elicited sympathy and understanding initially, it was nothing new to me. He had told me at least a hundred times how my grandfather was never in his life. He told me of his passing when he was 15 years old and how he chose not to visit him on his deathbed. In all honesty, I grew tired of hearing him tell this “story.” I felt it was an excuse for all the times he had let me down or was currently letting me down.
Nonetheless, my father and I had a strong, yet difficult relationship. We both internally wanted to have a meaningful connection, but struggled to maintain it because it was difficult for him to experience the ups and downs that come with a parent-child relationship and my young age.
Fast forward many years later, our love for each other and need for having a meaningful relationship never let up. We fought and bickered at times (like an old couple as one of my sisters eventually told me), but I came to understand we loved each other and neither of us wanted to let go of the other. We went to the gym together regularly, he would send text messages to my sisters and I sometimes daily... there was something in him that didn’t allow him to let go of our family even after he and my mom divorced when I was in middle school.
Although I have come to terms with our relationship and his passing a short two and a half months after my daughter’s birth, I could not help but notice the lasting impact our relationship had on me and my ability to believe how good of a father I could be to my growing daughter.
I worked diligently at providing for my family financially, emotionally and wholeheartedly, but things weren’t getting easier. There was an underlying fear of being alone with my daughter for long periods of time and feelings of inadequacy. Would I be able to care for her properly, feed her, comfort her—withstand the anxiety-provoking crying?
A lot of doubt would cross my mind as I prepared for my wife to leave and regain her own sanity outside our humble home. I couldn’t put my finger on it, there was something in me telling me I might not be able to handle this beautiful, tiny baby and all her mighty emotions. It was affecting my relationship with my wife and eventually other aspects.
At a certain point in couples therapy I realized the insecurity my dad communicated by his actions as well as verbally when he expressed, “I had to learn how to be a father without having had a father” had shifted into my narrative, into my fears of being a capable father and the “incomplete” version of fatherhood I had received.
I was shocked to realize he had passed down what has been identified as generational trauma. Did this mean I would be doomed or destined to live a life like my father? With the need to connect but not being able to deal with the difficult emotions that come with the relationships around me?
The short answer is no. My father was raised in an emotionally and physically abusive single parent household in a 3rd world country. He left a legacy, an example of his desire and will to overcome the injustice and difficulty he experienced as a child. The odds were stacked against him.
What I have come to realize is that he never gave up. Yes, he was incredibly wounded from his upbringing, but he never gave up.
I know this isn’t the case for everyone. There are other men, like my father, who had no father, or a father who hasn’t been or wasn’t able to defeat the difficulties of life. To these men, husbands, and fathers I say, carry on. Keep pushing to become aware of what you do that works or doesn’t work. Get the outside opinion of other men you look up to or professionals who can help make sense of all the crap life has handed to you. It is never too late. Take what your dad did right and let go of what didn’t work.
I have learned to never give up, to not let the thoughts telling me I am not good enough to dictate the kind of husband and father I want to be for my wife and daughter.
Relationships are not for the faint of heart. The course of my life, my father’s life, and the countless fathers and mothers that came before me are what motivates me to live a different life. It fuels my passion to help other men like you and me, or the men in your lives to strive for the relationships we want despite the tools we were handed. If anything above resonated with you feel free to click here and let me know a little more about yourself and how I might be able to assist you in sorting through parts of your life you would like to improve.
-George Fuentes Modern Male Counseling Specialist