A Father's Tenderness

As Father’s Day approaches this Sunday, I have been reflecting on the men in my life.

My own dad is a vibrant and healthy 73 year old, and I become more aware every day of how fortunate I am to still have him in my life. That’s not true for a whole lot of 50 year old daughters and sons.

My relationship with Dad has evolved over the years. When we were kids, Dad was the jokester who would jump out of our closet and scare the daylights out of us! He was also the one who could shoot us a look or say just a few words in a certain tone, and we knew he meant business and we better shape up!

Dad was the one who broke down when he and Mom took me 12 hours away to college, and he was the one who knew five years later that I really didn’t want to go to graduate school (which would have meant leaving my future husband behind). The night before I was slated to leave for Ohio University, he asked what I really wanted to do, and I collapsed in a heap of relief when I told him I wanted to stay home. He never looked back or second guessed me.

Dad has since become one of my biggest supporters and cheerleaders. He listens to and encourages me in everything I do, and he is a devoted and beloved PawPaw to his grandchildren. These moments of tenderness grow more and more meaningful as we both get older.

I have often heard it said that women tend to marry a man like their father (let’s hope that’s a good thing!), and I definitely see similarities in my husband, Don, and my dad. Both are expert at making me laugh, and the only thing either of them really need are the people under their own roofs. Don was only 14 when his dad died unexpectedly, so he has actually had my dad in his life twice as long as his own father.

Losing his dad so young made Don that much more committed to being present for our kids from the moment they were born. He has been a self-employed landlord and real estate investor for most of our marriage, so he purposely arranged his schedule to be home as much as possible with Angela and Sam. He changed their diapers as often as I did, and got up through the night with them (I can sleep through a train wreck; him, not so much!). He wrestled with them and made up funny stories that the kids contributed to as well. He played games with them (even Pretty, Pretty Princess, where the winner is decked out in a crown and jewelry!) and read them books. He taught them how to ride their bikes, mow the lawn, and manage money.

All that fun, intentionality, and tenderness paid off big time. Angela was a Daddy’s girl for most of her life, and it was a little tough on Don when the apple of her eye shifted to her boyfriend.

Sam is a carbon copy of his dad: loud, rambunctious, funny, and a heart of gold. He will be 17 this fall. He’s taller than all the rest of us, he’s his sister’s best friend, and like his dad and PawPaw before him, he loves his family like crazy. Sam never misses an opportunity to tell us so, and even better, he likes to show it, too. At least once a day (and often, multiple times per day), he says, “Can I have a hug?” and then wraps his lanky, young man arms around me.

I never go to bed without hearing, “Sleep well, Mom. I love you.” (I head to bed by 10, and he’s usually got at least three more hours to go, so it’s always a case of him “tucking me in”, more or less!) Those moments pierce through me sometimes with such palpable love and gratitude, it nearly takes my breath away, and always springs tears to my eyes.

All I can think is, “Thank you God for this child who has become a man and still loves us so unabashedly.”

These three men are such a gift in my life.

It is so important for boys and men to be shown tenderness so that they can then offer that tenderness to others.

When I hold up Jesus as the model to follow for my kids (or anyone else, for that matter), it’s not because Jesus was strong and powerful and macho. It’s because Jesus was humble and merciful and tender.

Just like His Father.