01 DecBeing “Dad” Means Never Having Not to Worry

Becoming a Dad is a big deal—a really, really big deal. I’m not talking “big deal” in the way that every man feels when he holds his first child in his arms for the very first time. Don’t get me wrong; that is a big deal. Many new fathers are moved to the point of blogging when that happens. I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the sheer weight of responsibility that comes slamming down on your shoulders when you become a Dad. No man can be asked to bear that burden, can he?

When you hold that newborn daughter in your arms for the first time the dreams for the future you have don’t include standing on the porch with her at two in the morning hoping the cold air will help her breathe while she is suffering from croup. It doesn’t include the outright panic you feel when you can’t find your three-year-old son anywhere, or the tears you cry when you finally find him sleeping in the car where he had been secretly playing. It doesn’t include the fear you feel while you sit next to your son in the emergency room to get his head stitched up. It’s not the stitches you fear, but the question of how to pay for them since you don’t have any insurance or savings. It doesn’t include the anger and sadness you feel when you hear your daughter use cruel words toward her mother during a difficult moment in life. It doesn’t include the sense of failure you feel when  and you are at the store shopping for food for your family and you only have sixteen dollars in your bank account.  It doesn’t include the dread you feel as your grown children make crucial decisions that will set the degree of difficulty in their future.

No, becoming a Dad is a big deal. The sense of responsibility never ends. It doesn’t change when your kids grow up and leave home. I am 53 and my Dad has indicated he has lost sleep over me in the recent years. Luckily for me I couldn’t see what was coming as I was approached Dadhood. If I had I would have cut and run. But if I had cut and run I would have missed the unexpected kiss from my second daughter yesterday. What a thrill of joy that gave me. I would have missed the loving, perceptive letter my first son sent me this morning. I would have missed the clarifying, meaningful walk around the house with my second son and his wife last night. I would have missed seeing the happiness on my third son’s face as he held hands with his girlfriend the other day. I have eight children and the list of what I would have missed goes on and on. Yes, I am grateful that God hid the horrendous weight of Dadhood from me long enough for me to commit. I would have missed so much.