No, you don’t need to look at any of that.
You only need to ask yourself this:
What role did my father play in my own life?
Completely involved or totally absentee, workaholic or committed family man, estranged by divorce or in-love with your mother, stoic or emotional, distant or present, stable or flighty, safe or risky, healthy or unhealthy, died too young or living to a ripe old age, happy or unhappy.
The list goes on and on.
And because people are so damned complicated, he could have inhabited any (or most) of these attributes over his lifetime.
I still look for my father’s approval. I still want to know what he thinks of me; the work I do, the way I parent my kids, and how I live my life. His opinion is of utmost importance to me, and I seek his counsel often.
I am watching my husband, whom I only know as a man I married, become a father to his three girls. He is a soft touch, and while I have practically never seen him cry, his eyes water often at the simplest things with his girls. When they toddle to him on a beach; when they caress his face. When they say, “I love you, Daddy.” His eyes well up and I see him, completely vulnerable. Sure, he loves me. But he loves them. And it is the way it should be.
I can ride him hard for his tendency to be soft with the girls…more rules, be tougher, keep your boundaries, but I really don’t want him to change. He is the smooth to my rough, the hug to my grab, the smile to my grimace, the yes to my no. The truth is, I need him, and the real truth is, I think I may need him more than he needs me.
He would probably say the same about me (which is sweet), but we all know whom the kids would pick in the divorce.
So, to my dearest Mark, thank you for being the father I knew you would be to these wonderful girls.
I love you.