The solemn majesty of being a dad
A message for new and soon-to-be dads, with thoughts on fatherhood and the dad identity
Happy Father's Day! One of my goals this month is to experiment on Substack. You may notice an uptick in activity and content types over the next few weeks. (I did my first-ever voiceover for this piece.) Thanks for your patience and support. - Jeff
On the second day after my son was born, I took him with me to dinner at an Italian bistro. It was a perfect summer evening in Wilmette, Illinois — 70 degrees, a setting sun, and a neighborhood backdrop straight out of a John Hughes movie. We were sitting in a relaxed patio environment. My newborn nugget was sleeping in his brand new stroller next to the table. Over the course of dinner, I must’ve checked on him like every 30 seconds. Was it bad to bring a baby to a restaurant on his second day of life? I had no clue.
At the end of the dinner, an old guy who looked like the quintessential Midwestern grandfather walked over to my table. He leaned over, put his hand on my shoulder, and said, “You're going to be a good dad.” I must’ve had NEW DAD AND CLUELESS written all over my face. I thanked him and he walked away just in time to miss the tear in my eye. His words meant so much to me at the time. I hope to pass along that assurance to new and soon-to-be dads today.
Being a dad is exhausting. AND, it’s the best thing ever. A few weeks ago, I came home late after a long day and found a note from my son asking me to rough house. He's six and learning to write complete sentences, and something about that note touched me. Fatherhood is full of simple joys like this.
Being a dad is an opportunity to be a better man, and I hope you take it. I am a Tenderfoot by dad standards, and it’s already shaped me. For one thing, it delivered a knock-out blow to my Peter Pan Syndrome. It’s also taken nihilism off the table as a coping mechanism. Saying screw it and drinking myself to death is no longer an option. Every single day I have a mission and a focus. It’s not about me any more.
Before having kids, I didn’t realize how universalizing fatherhood is, though it seems obvious now. Fatherhood is this flowing river we all swim in. Time marches on and the river takes new shape, but the experience is pretty similar across regions, cultures, and generations. You will soon be in this river. It will baptize you.
Being a dad is a sacred rite, a blood oath, a heroic mission. The technical circumstances are unimportant. Maybe you are a step-dad, an adoptive parent, or an uncle stepping in. Maybe you have a super-fertile wife, disavow contraception, and this will be your first of seven kids. It doesn't matter. The universe will see the quiet majesty of your dad-ness. You will feel it within you.
What does matter is that you show up for your kids — listen, provide, and nurture them. Life happens: divorce, health issues, job layoffs. You just have to hold onto your mission to be a good dad and do the best you can under the circumstances. Your kids will recognize that. They will feel it.
Being a dad will shape your identity in ways that are hard to explain. As a gay guy as well as a dad, June is an interesting month for me. Pride is the entire month and, in case you haven’t noticed, there's a lot of cultural noise around it. Then there's Father's Day, a quiet Sunday morning eating chocolate-chip pancakes with my son. The contrast is interesting, even on an emotional level. Gay pride is the pride of a peacock. It is loud and flashy and sometimes can’t shut up. I am not belittling it; it is a coping mechanism for years of shame. The pride I feel among dads, on the other hand, is not pride at all but the quiet confidence of a lion. It is solemn and majestic. It doesn’t demand attention, though I wish our culture would give more weight to it.
There will be times on your parenting journey that will challenge you. I only have one kid and, man, sometimes it’s a struggle. As a dad, it is important to carve out time to cope and reground in healthy ways — lifting weights, hiking, wood-working, or whatever. One of my favorite new coping mechanisms is taking long walks at night; these walks have replaced bourbon as my go-to way to relax at the end of a long day.
Someday, I hope to have the grandfatherly gravitas of that old guy who put his hand on my shoulder and assured me when I needed it most. I am far from that today — I’m in the weeds of parenting and still learning.
Nevertheless, I want you to know that I believe in you, even with your cracked and broken pieces. You are going to be a good dad.
You’ve got this.
I will save you some chocolate-chip pancakes.
Theme song: “Here comes the sun” by the Beatles
Cannot overstate how much dads want to be told they are a good dad. Told someone the other day he was a good dad and he started tearing up.
...convito italiano?...congrats on all the experimentation man...