“Build me a son, O Lord, who will be strong enough to know when he is weak, and brave enough to face himself when he is afraid; one who will be proud and unbending in honest defeat, and humble and gentle in victory.” ~ Douglas MacArthur
I remember a guys’ retreat awhile back where we took a long hard look at our relationships with our fathers. it was memorable for me in its raw honesty and the willingness of the men to share some very painful memories.
As we took turns reminiscing about our childhood it became abundantly clear many had been broken and bruised by their fathers, never feeling supported or protected.
But as the weekend rolled on and we probed ever more deeply into fatherhood a different story emerged. Many of the guys had found adoptive fathers, the self-selected fathers who were stand-ins for absent, abusive or deceased fathers.
Wow!!!
These were some of the most encouraging and inspirational stories I ever heard — stories of truly noble men — noble men lifting up the lives of forgotten boys.
These stories struck a resounding chord with me.
I had grown up in a crowded household, five children born in six years. My father traveled in his work and was always a bit of a stranger to me. Mother would gather us around the front room window on Monday mornings so we could wave goodbye; we wouldn’t see him again till Friday.
One-on-one time was hard to come by; when I got mine it generally involved a visit to the woodshed.
Dad was a haunting figure. While on one hand I craved his approval, on the other I knew it was really not available, so as a boy I withdrew and found solace in my own world where I didn’t need his approval.
Yet when I was 13 and he suddenly died I discovered I DID. I slid off the rails and drifted into a netherland of anger and despair.
My dad was a good man, just maybe a little overwhelmed by his family responsibilities and the demands his job. I know at some point we would have worked through our father/son issues. I loved him and he loved me.
But with his death all that was curtailed — forever.
Dad’s funeral was a sad affair, lots of crying and too many pats on the back. I remember little of the actual service, but one line in the homily jumped out at me. Fr. Slate looked on at my teary-eyed brothers and sisters and said, “At the important moments in your life men will appear and offer you the help you need to get through hard times.”
What he said struck me as so important I wrote it down on the back of a pledge card — a card that I’ve kept to this very day.
A pledge that was kept.
The first man who stepped up for me was Eddie Cragg, my soccer coach.
Coach Cragg was a soccer legend in the Pacific Northwest, first Commissioner for Washington State Soccer and an early inductee into the USA Soccer Hall of Fame.
He volunteered his time to coach the St. Anne’s soccer team.
When I showed up for fall practice right after my father’s passing I stood out. We’d been asked to have our fathers there so Coach Cragg could tell them want he expected from kids who played on his team.
So I showed up without a dad and he learned of my circumstances. He pulled me aside, gave me a pat on the back and a knowing wink, and whispered, “I’ll work with you, lad.”
Bingo! When I was feeling
- the most unsure of myself,
- the most unsupported,
- the most exposed,
… a man stepped in to to give me cover and the help I needed to survive that first autumn without Dad.
He did work with me. I had a great season and learned a ton about both soccer and life.
Coach Cragg changed the course of my life.
The pledge of men appearing at times I’ve needed them has been kept.
Always the question for me as a young man has been would I be willing to say yes to the men who’d been stand-ins for Dad.
Now, as an older man, the question has been would I be willing to say yes to the young men sent my way for a little fathering. I have endeavored to do just that.
Just a thought…
Pat