12 Nov“Dad” Means You Are Going to Miss a Few Things

I often read accounts of celebrity “new” dads. They often show the excitement and elation that most men feel when they become a dad for the first time. They use words like “awesome” and “greatest thing in the world” and “nothing could be more important.” Having become the dad to eight children I can testify of the truthfulness of their words. Becoming a dad is awesome. It’s the greatest thing in the world and there is nothing else I could be that could be more important. Still, I smile at the words of these first-time fathers. I would like to hear their follow-up quotes year-by-year as their child or children grow. As the novelty and honeymoon of the birth wears off and the family-life gets down to business there might be more adjectives to apply to being a dad.

My wife and I tried to go to a movie once when our first-born was an infant.  Apparently he didn’t like the movie because I remember having a little argument with my wife as to whose turn it was to take the baby out.  In this instance she won and I didn’t get to see the end of The Boy Who Could Fly for years.

Earlier this summer my second son and his wife took two of my younger children and me to Spiderman. A little over halfway through the movie my nine-year-old daughter started feeling ill. She is sensitive to sound and motion and I think the action movie on the big screen got to her.  Like any good dad I tried to get her to close her eyes and plug her ears and tough it out. After all, the movie would be over in forty minutes. However, her discomfort increased and there were tears. I took her hand and we went all the way out of the Megaplex theater and laid on the lawn under the August stars while letting the others finish the movie. She laid her head on my chest and felt better. I haven’t seen the end of that movie yet.

Just last weekend I took my two older daughters and their friend to a ballet concert up at BYU. These three girls are involved in a local dance group and I thought they would enjoy watching ballet performed at a higher level. I know I looked forward to it. It is fun spending time with my girls and I love the grace, beauty and creativity of ballet. As we were walking into the ballet venue I noticed my fourteen-year-old looked a little pale. By the intermission she had her head on my shoulder and looked absolutely miserable. Up to this point the ballet performances had been wonderful. The venue puts the viewers very close to the dancers and the dances were intimate and fun. I was looking forward to the second half, but having a daughter feeling so miserable it didn’t seem wise to keep her in such a crowded space. We went out into the hallway where she was able to lay down on a cushioned bench while we let the other two girls finish the concert. We lived an hour away so running her home was not an easy option. Like any good father I felt sorry for myself for a few minutes as I paced up and down the hall to wile away the time. I could hear the music for the next dance pieces playing. Eventually I saw my daughter leaning up on one arm still looking miserable. A tear had streaked mascara down one cheek. I went and sat down next to her and she put her head on my lap.

It was only about thirty minutes and the concert was over. My older daughter and her friend appeared. I could see dancing ballerinas in their eyes. My older daughter leaned down and wiped the tear streak from her sister’s eye.  My sick daughter was feeling a bit better after getting out into the cold air so we stopped for ice cream. I gave them quarters and they picked songs on the jukebox. There was laughter all around. My older girl described the dance numbers that we missed—dances that I will never see.

Yes, “dad” means you are going to have to miss a few things in life and it can be a bummer at the time. But then you miss things in life if you aren’t a dad, too. Believe it or not there is something of value in the memory of a teary young daughter’s head on my chest as we lay under the summer sky waiting for the others. Seeing my older daughter wipe the mascara-tear track from her sister’s cheek was unexpected and beautiful to me, their dad. Maybe we dads are not missing as much as we like to complain about.