The path of fatherhood

I just got off the phone from my dad and felt like telling someone I love them. The immediate feeling of sharing love was strong. You know the feeling.
My father is an amazing man. He is generous and has countless talents, from building cars to falling asleep while you’re mid-sentence.  Dad and I didn’t always have this connection.
As a child, I didn’t feel as though he was around much. We had a few camping trips and some Jeep rides, but he was usually distracted by work or the garage.
As a teenager, there was unspoken conflict. He’d be happy with my after-school work commitments and going to the gym which was sporty, perhaps even manly, from his perspective.
As an adult with a wife and two babies, there was quiet admiration — and possible relief — followed by his support by wanting me to be a more involved father than he was.
When I finally came out, I knew it was going to be a tough discussion to have with him. How do you tell your dad you’re gay?  When I finally cornered him and told him, he wept.
He blamed himself for not being around and he didn’t want me to lose my life to “alleys and filth” as he put it (well, at least not every night, Dad!)
Dad healed quite quickly. He started calling me regularly to tell me he loved me. He’d call just to hear my voice and he called to make sure I knew he was there.
In four years he and I have become father and son like I hadn’t thought possible. He amazed me how he could change, and as a son, I was overjoyed at his quiet, constant affection and laughter when he spoke to me.
He hadn’t lost a child to filth, he gained a real son. On reflection I guess we were both broken, but somehow something is fixed. The journey has cost me and my loved ones dearly, but I can’t price the returned love I have been offered, given and bestowed.
My life began again. Honesty and love were the reasons, not an orientation.
Happy Father’s Day, Dad.