Fatherhood . . .

Regardless of what comes out in this blog, I wanna start by saying that I am in a good place, spiritually, emotionally . . . all the ways that really matter. There isn't a whole lot that I can take my hands about my life and say, 'Hey, here is an area where I am exactly where I wanted to be a year ago", but that's okay . . .

One of the deep areas of , well, ME, is this area of fatherhood - what it means to BE a father, what it means to have a father, who my father is . . . and it is a source of both hurt and comfort, joy and sorrow, deep healing and deep loss.

I want to be a father. It is deeper than my desire to be successful in any kind of career sense, deeper than my desire to "be" something in this world . . . I can't think of any of my dreams that I have for myself that I wouldn't give up to be a father.

My dad, Gerry, and I were talking about how there is a lack of real fathering in the world today - there are so many absent fathers who impregnate the mother of their children and then . . . bail. If not physically, they bail emotionally, never giving the kind of masculine love and tender strength that a young soul needs. It was a bit ironic, having this conversation with my dad, but I'm not so callous as to not recognize how very far he has come.

I was staying at Mike and Trish's place last night, and when I got there, their 3 girls all smiled, faces lighting up - for Mike. And rightfully so. And though they were also excited to see me, Uncle Greg can't hold a candle to Daddy. It's such a joy to behold how Bella pounces on Daddy, followed closely by Elena . . . and then little Eden does her best to make her way over there :)

I want that. There is a little bit of fear, not because I think I'll be a poor father, but because of the awesome responsibility and privilege it is.

I don't think words can really say what I'm trying to get at here, and I kind of tear up a bit whenever I think about this, but suffice it to say that I have no greater desire than to be a daddy :) And no greater desire than to share my life with mommy:)


I was chatting with my friend Sara recently on Facebook (one of the rare moments it worked for me) about my recent trip to Ontario . . . and how it was difficult for me to spend time with my mom and sisters and then my father, separately. It's left a deep impression on me, my own father's failings . . . anyway, at one point in the conversation, this is what I said :

I want to come home to my wife and hear our kids laughing or crying or playing or whatever, and I want to have meals together and live together and just let all of them know right from day one that this house, our house, is a home, and it's safe, and mom and dad aren't going anywhere

My days are rewarding, for the most part, and I have deep friendships here that I am so thankful for . . . but there is a tinge of loneliness that haunts my days. It is all good, but I have this sneaking suspicion that like all good things, it would be better shared. Being patient is tough, and I know it's needed of me right now . . . but these deep desires are so very much a part of what makes me who I am that they will not be silent until they come to fruition.