Lessons From Imperfect Fathers
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| Dad, me, Art, Mom |
My
father wasn’t perfect—he drank too much and smoked unfiltered
cigarettes and died too soon. However, these aren’t the moments I
recall. Much of the goodness in me and my family is the direct result of
him.
He
adored my mother. I remember him coming home from work and we kids
would crow for his attention. We received our hugs and kisses, but then
he got to mom. He’d hold her in the kitchen and they’d hug and
smooch—none of us existed in that moment. Their love came first.
His
interests centered on his boat—and the boat meant family time. We spent
summers sailing the Long Island Sound, picnicking on sandbars, fishing
off the boat and cruising.
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| Bob, Dad, Janine, Alan |
He
consciously taught me not to smoke by showing me the tar his cigarettes
produced. He’d
arrive home from work at the same time daily. The great joy of my life
was to “surprise” him by walking the half-mile to the main road to meet
him.
These are heirlooms I can finger, joys that play out in my life today.
Little details of my life show my father’s impact. My love of reading, Of classical music. Of learning.
As our lives near their finales, what will our legacy be? None of us are perfect--but all our foibles will blur if:
- We make amends for the wounds we inflicted on those we love.
- We share the things we enjoy most in the world.
- We spend time with real humans in the real world rather than playing with our media or pursuing our passions alone
- We understand humans matter, not jobs or goals or pasttimes.
For more blogs from "Character Counts" see http://carol-mcclain.blogspot.com
