FATHERS; Civilization's Last Hope

I almost escaped notice of this time of year.  I have not cared for it much since the day a man in black robes sentenced me to life outside the daily felicity of my children.  I applied for their custody and was denied.  I was devastated.  The children's mother felt vindicated--for a very short time.  I was not the kind of father I had wanted to be, but certainly not the villain she had made me out to be in their eyes.  There was a lot of transference of her feelings onto them in those days.  And sadly for her, the vindictiveness continues to this day.  The children have long since reached adulthood, but the impact of her vindictiveness and its secondary effects has not departed from their lives.  They struggle as did I, and the irony of it is, the oldest is worse off than the others, who had graduated from high school when the split up finally became official.

I did not have a father growing up, although I had a biological dad.  He was more an itinerant priest than father even though his profession was the construction and maintenance of pipe organs.  He was a war baby as I was a post-war baby, and that social atmosphere for him engendered a different attitude about the future than what was beneficial for post WWII.  In the middle of his life he suddenly found himself in an obsolete profession, his spouse dead, near broke, and no idea how to be a father.  Nor did he find himself possessed of the desire to finish the job.  In his panicked state, he cast about for a willing woman to take the reigns.  But of course she wished for her own offspring, and I bless all the stars in heaven she was infertile.  Those of us still left in the home were disowned soon enough as he redoubled his efforts to raise the rest of his Zionist tribal pack by adopting kids to suit her maternal over-drive.  Had she reproduced I doubt us pre-adolescent kids would have emotionally survived.  Dad would never have had the opportunity to send me away when he finally felt able to implement his Millenial Dream.  I would have either left town or this planet.

Be all this as black as it seems to me at this far distant shore, he did insist on a few things which I perceive noteworthy.  As my mother sagged over the years into the old woman in the shoe role, we were compelled to muster to the duties of laundry, house-cleaning, and feeding ourselves.  All of us had our turn at a rotating list of chores. It would have worked out well had not some of the older siblings been negligent.  Rebellion often lurked when dad was otherwise occupied--which was quite often.  About the time dad finally sent me away for good (or so he thought) I was performing most of the dish-washing, mopping, vacuuming, mowing and garbage detail.  All this in addition to 2 hours weekly of personal laundry and ironing.  The younger ones were not considered capable of performing any of those tasks, and when they did, it was often in haste.  I was tolerant of their incompetence for lack of skill, but I chaffed constantly at their laziness.  What I got out of it was a skill-set unusual for a father in these "modern" times.

Part of dad's exiling of his children was sending me off to work on the older sister's dairy farm.  The amusement of the operations lasted only a short while.  His excuse was to teach me to work.  But I was the only one he compelled to submit to such summer work.  And besides, every time I was gone he was off pursuing his Millenial Dream, dragging the remnant of our family half-way across the North American continent.  I especially did not understand his reasoning since I was handling more than my sibling share of household chores.  I didn't really learn anything about how to work for a boss (my brother-in-law resented my presence and preferred to focus on raising his own children--and rightly so), although I did learn a few things about farming.  But I did buff up considerably, at least to the point I lost my fear of bullies and popular athletes.

 Thousands of mile-markers distant from those days I am deeply disturbed when I read of men who receive little praise from their wives for their contribution to family felicity through their efforts at fathering.  These women have not learned anything about men really, and expect the world to turn for them as their father's provided for them while they were imbeciles.  All too many of them complain about their husband's lack of competence, and/or interest in domestic labor.  I have yet to see any of them know anything about REAL labor unless they were raised on a farm which required their participation in order to survive. Furthermore, they complain because men don't know how to make love to them once married. But I'm still looking for the woman who has learned how to make love to a man, especially as his virility diminishes with time. It takes more than looking like Barbie to fulfill his bonding urges.  Lest this be perceived as nostrum, my first wife although familiar with farm survival labor to some degree, still was sheltered by that of her father's labor who she despised for many years. She had no idea about the mechanics of sex beyond stick-figure action, and wanted to hide under the covers with the lights out on our wedding day.  Some farm girl.  As the oldest of six girls, she was especially adept at complaint, backstabbing, and competitive subterfuge as the rest of them.  When we met, her opinion of most males on campus was that men felt they were God's gift to women.  How I missed her stereotyping I cannot fathom.  What she never realized was that the real problem in her wifely repertoire was that she felt she was God's gift to me.

Contrary to the stereotyped clarion blasts in all the Media, men are not simply the equivalent of the dairy bull who's only reason for existence is to inseminate the entire herd.  There aren't any more dumb brutes among men than there are dumb broads among women.  Women are constantly prattling about this or that male-centered discriminatory issue.  What they don't understand is that while their hormone level may rise to thrice their childhood level upon entering puberty, the male's testosterone levels are seven times higher than females at this age.  Is it any wonder a male seldom has anything else on his mind?  It takes a well-tempered and nurturing father to guide his son past this rampaging period, to socialize him into managing those urges productively.  When men are given a chance to transcend the effects of the chemical changes that often drive them to insane acts, they discover they want and can actually achieve equal if not better in some instances, nurturance and parenthood than their spouse.  Their is no difference in capacity, only in understanding and opportunity.  And it takes a well grounded father who is blessed with a dynamic, vibrant, and flexible relationship with his spouse to teach his daughter how to be worth more than a Barbie late-comer.

So where does a mother fit into this?  If she does not participate with her husband in socializing her son to become a desirable husband, what does this say about her?  Women, you just can't have it both ways.  Good men are attracted to good women.  Women who understand the male psyche know what makes them tick and what motivates their paternal instincts.  Too many women enter marriage with the expectation their chosen mate will treat them where their father left off.  Enter Snow White and Cinderella.  Just as a man must learn how to polish his bride, a woman must learn how to cultivate a faithful groom.  And it is at this crossroad where it starts going South.

A Groom can never be groomed to be a woman's ideal mate.  This is the heart of a woman's misunderstanding.  She cannot and never will successfully groom a man into her desired image of perfection.  Men do things differently than women, and if she tries to mold him in her image, he will despise himself and other men will pity him should he measure up to her standard.  The good men are not all taken, deary.  They are cultivated.  Once a woman understands how this is carried out she will obtain her heart's desire, but rarely before.  So my deepest wish on this celebratory day is that women will get off their high pedestal of emotional superiority and go read up on what makes a man roll up his sleeves.  It doesn't take a lot of effort to implement and the rewards are mutually delightful.

Start with Dr. Kyle Pruett's research in The Nurturing Father, and Father Need.  Do what he counsels and watch the amazing transformation of your children and your relationship.

SethSmee