A friend of mine from college was in town recently so we got together to catch up. Seeing him again was great because it brought back some great memories and encouraged me about today’s young people.

For the record, I feel I’m 90 years old when I write “today’s young people.” However, in this context it’s true. My friend’s son is in his senior year of high school. My kids are 3 and 5. I don’t feel like an “old” dad but, suddenly, having a good friend talking about his near-adult child made me feel weird.

Having a kid forces you to grow up immediately and become more mature. What would I have done had I become a father in my 20s rather than my mid-30s? I know lots of guys who became dads in their early 20s. It all worked out fine for them. But for me, it seems alien and out of place. Being a dad and, more importantly, being mature enough to parent responsibly is something I couldn’t even fathom until I was in my mid-30s.

My friend and I met for lunch at a fast-food restaurant with one of those attached playground rooms. He marveled that my sons were always by my side. They always wanted to be near me. They’d pop out of the playground room to ask questions, play peek-a-boo and generally be cute.

“One day, they just stop wanting to be with you all the time,” he said. “They get their license, get a group of friends and you’ll see them for dinner. Maybe.”

I peppered him with questions about raising older children. As his son is applying for college, I asked about that process. He was frank about the costs, how much he could cover and how much debt he’d have at the end of four years. It was shocking to realize that the total cost for four years of college for the two of us cost only slightly less than one year of college for his son.

But he also put some of my concerns at ease. Some things had changed for the better since we went to college. For starters, a rising freshman now has an idea of what to expect employment-wise from their proposed major. They know their job possibilities, where those employment opportunities are located and how much they’ll realistically earn after graduation. We never had an idea of how much money it takes to exist, make it, succeed or prosper in the real world. Believe me, had those information fields been filled in for me when I was in college, I would’ve gone after a more stable and profitable profession.

My friend went on to tell me about some of our school friends who now owned small businesses, were chefs, city planners and one who is a high-ranking explosives expert for a large state bureau of investigations. We marveled at how we all ended up in such a diverse arena of employment.

My friend had to start his drive home. He left me feeling that the kids who are going to college today aren’t going in as blind as their parents did back in the day. It was also a great reminder that no matter how annoying, tiring, messy, repetitive and frustrating small children can be; a day will come when I’m not as cool to them as I am now.

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This blog post is part of the #NoDadAlone campaign. Fathering Together/City Dads Group, the National At-Home Dad Network, and Fathers Eve are joining forces to amplify messages that help dads recognize we are not alone! Follow #NoDadAlone on Instagram, and learn more at NoDadAlone.com.

A version of this first appeared on Daddy Mojo and ran here in 2015. It has since been updated. Photo: PublicDomainPictures.net

I’ve discussed at length turning 40, in writing and in various conversations with friends. I’ve talked about what it means from a physical and mental standpoint, where I am now versus where I thought I would be, and the reality of how this age has been so far compared to what I thought it would be when I was much younger.

Nearly two years in, it’s been great. I feel good — aside from the occasional aches, pains and concerns that come in this season of life. OK, overall it hasn’t been that bad.

For those of us in our 40s, we have spent the better part of two decades or so getting acclimated to the information age. Social media allows us to connect with others, learn, and debate about various topics every second of every day. It also gives us a glimpse into the lives of our peers. We learn of their struggles, their highlights, and whatever they carefully curate to share with us on their respective timelines.

With that, one thing has stood out of late. It seems every time I log on to social media, someone in my age range is dealing with some life-altering event. A parent has passed. A separation has started or a marriage has ended. An illness has struck. These always remind me that we have to enjoy life as much as possible because things can change in an instant.

Big questions to ponder, answer as we age

As a dad, when I see these updates from friends and family, it can’t help but make me think of my own mortality. This is the “dark side” of being in your 40s. Real-life issues and concerns weigh on you more than ever before, especially when kids are involved.

If something were to happen to me tomorrow, would my kids be OK?

Am I doing enough to prepare my kids for a successful future, with or without me?

Are my affairs in order?

I should be thinking about these questions anyway, but they sound louder and more urgent when I learn about the bad news of others. It makes me look in the mirror.

The irony for me is that, in dealing with my own aging parents, I’ve been trying to have these conversations with my mom and dad. It’s uncomfortable for sure, but necessary. However, because those talks to date have not been as productive as I would like, it’s given me more incentive to make sure I’m doing right by my children now. I want to make sure that when my time comes, whenever that may be, the process will be as stress-free as possible for them. Why? Because we’ve all seen online when families aren’t prepared for life’s twists and turns. The GoFundMes pop up, along with the venting, and much of it can be prevented by proper planning.

I try to lead by example to make sure my son and daughter understand the value of preparation. We should always hope and pray for the best, but prepare for the worst. My prayer in my 40s is to live a long, healthy life to be there for my kids. But if my story has an unexpected ending, it’s my responsibility to make sure they have the tools needed to finish their own book.

How to prepare for life-altering family events

Here is some suggested reading to help start you on readying your children and family when life throws you curves:

• 11 life skills you should teach your child (Very Well)
• 65 life skills to teach kids at every age (Mommy Poppins)
• Teach masculinity to sons with positive, healthy examples (City Dads)
• Saving for college: Educate yourself on these 3 main methods (City Dads)
• How to write a will when you have children (WikiHow)
• Tips for estate planning conversations (Fidelity Investments)
• Living trusts vs living wills (MetLife)
• Children and divorce (HelpGuide.org)

Prepare photo by cottonbro studio via Pexels.

If I’ve learned anything during my fatherhood journey thus far, I’ve learned that parenting is a 24-7 job.

There’s literally always something going on. The free time we once enjoyed as single, childless men is long gone. From the newborn stage where all your attention is focused on figuring out how to keep this little person alive through the early school years where calendars are filled with extracurricular activities, and on to the teenage years when you’re helping guide your children into young adulthood, fatherhood is a never-ending cycle of being here, there, and everywhere for the sake of your kids.

While stressful, tiresome, and thankless, it’s what we signed up for. It’s a calling. A responsibility for us as fathers to be active and involved every step of the way. 

With that, however, we have to be sure we’re taking time for ourselves. Fathers have to prioritize mental and physical health so we can be the best version of ourselves possible for our children, especially as we age. For those of us fortunate enough to be in healthy marriages, relationships, and partnerships with the mothers of our children, it can’t go without saying how beneficial it is to have someone by your side to help share the load of parenting, because it gets heavy. 

Even so, as men, we are wired to be “strong,” to not show any signs of weakness. No matter what we’re carrying internally, there’s no time for that. After all, we have to get the kids ready for school, for bed, and everything in between. That’s the priority. It has to get done, right? But at what expense?

Make self-care a priority in parenting

I’d like to think I’m pretty good at taking care of myself. I work out regularly. Every now and then, I’m able to hang out with the guys and enjoy some time away from the kids. But, if I’m being honest, dad burnout smacks me in the face often. And when it does, it tends to simply stay there.

For me, it comes as a result of being in a constant state of “doing.” I pride myself on being an active father – coaching soccer, taking my son to swim class, picking my daughter up from daycare, and being available whenever my wife needs me. And not to mention the day-to-day household responsibilities of a husband and father. The “go go go” mentality I and other dads have is, yes, what we’re supposed to do. But it’s also a recipe for fatigue.

Simply put, at times I find myself stretched thin. And no dad wants to feel that. Even with the most routine challenges of fatherhood, we shouldn’t have our overall well-being put at risk. In looking for a healthy balance, we have to be sure we’re being intentional in carving out time for us. That may mean altering our schedule to fit in a walk during the day. Find a dad tribe to have a space to talk openly and honestly about your experiences. The connections made through other dads will help you realize that you’re not the only one going through it. We can be there for each other.

Most importantly, we have to be open with our partners. Just as we need moms to be open with us when they need a break, we as dads need to be vulnerable enough to say we need a break, even for a few hours. 

We have to be there for ourselves so we can be there for our kids.

Caring for yourself photo: © Antonioguillem / Adobe Stock.

The text from my dad arrived around mid-morning, the time of day when I’m usually just settled in at work and inundated with emails and meeting invites.

As I read his message, my already busy morning became more complicated. He wrote that my mom was taking him to the hospital because he wasn’t feeling well. This was the latest in a series of health issues he’d been dealing with the last few months. While it thankfully hadn’t reached a life-threatening level, the frequency of the trips to the doctor had become concerning.

I’d be lying if I said my first response wasn’t a “shaking of the head, here we go again” feeling. After all, one of the things my dad taught me when I was younger that has most certainly proven to be true as I’ve become a man is this: There’s always something. There’s always something that comes up in your day-to-day life that wasn’t on your radar or in the plans. That’s life.

It’s also life when you’re faced with an important choice and not sure how to decide. Naturally, I was concerned about my dad and his well-being. At the same time, I had my own responsibilities as a dad I needed to be present for. If I made the roughly 90-mile drive to the hospital, my son would be disappointed I couldn’t take him to basketball practice. And if I ended up having to stay for a couple of days to look after my dad and help my mom out, my wife would have her hands full with both kids.

On the flip side, if I didn’t go to the hospital, what would my dad think? Would he be disappointed in me for not showing up for him like he’s done for me my entire life? Would my mom, who was already a nervous wreck, be able to answer the doctor’s questions? I had just visited him in the hospital when he was there a few weeks before this latest incident. That has to count for something, right?

Burden of the sandwich generation

This is a common dilemma of the approximately 25% of Americans like me in the “sandwich generation.” We are adults with at least one parent alive, age 65 or older, also raising at least one child younger than 18 (or providing financial support to an adult child). Being torn between young and old family members, in addition to work and other obligations, adds emotional, financial and physical strain to parenting. Luckily, for me, COVID-19 and the recession have not complicated our situation as much as it has for others.

I ultimately decided not to go. I managed to take care of everything I needed to do at home while checking in with my mom seemingly every 30 minutes about my dad’s condition.

However, that didn’t erase the guilt I felt. It ate at me the entire time my dad was in the hospital. My mind was telling me I should’ve gone. I was praying everything would work out because if it didn’t, I’d be kicking myself for not being there. Conversely, I was glad I stayed home. Had I missed my son’s practice, the other side of the guilt spectrum would’ve eaten at me as well.

As I continue to adjust to dealing with aging parents, one thing I didn’t factor into that dynamic was the guilt I would experience when faced with having to choose between my current responsibilities as a dad with being there to care for my own dad as he ages. I don’t want to shortchange either. I want to be able to give equally to my son and daughter, as well as my dad. That’s not realistic, I know, but the guilt I feel is not fair to me.

Just as my dad warned me about dealing with the unexpected, I hope to be able to help my kids not beat themselves up when they have to make tough decisions, especially when their hearts are in the right place. But that’s life.

Tips for those caught in between

If sandwich generation stresses are getting to you, here’s some advice for coping from professionals:

From the American Psychological Association:

• Maintain perspective: Prioritize and delegate responsibilities. Delay or say no to less important tasks. Find ways family and friends can lessen your load.
• Find healthy ways to manage stress: Are your coping mechanisms unhealthy (alcohol, drugs, junk food)? Consider healthy, stress-reducing activities — taking a relaxing bath or shower, exercising or talking things out with friends or family.
• Practice self-care: Always make time for yourself so you have the mental and physical energy to care for your parents and children. Eat right, get enough sleep, drink plenty of water, and engage in regular physical and social activity. Maintain contact with friends and other family members.
• Ask for professional support: If you still feel overwhelmed or unhealthy behaviors start dominating your “me time,” you may want to seek a psychologist or other health care professional.

From Senior Living.org:

• Agree to set financial boundaries to help parents or adult children.
• Consider having aging parents move in with you to lower expenses.
• Look into investing in a medical alert system to monitor your aging parent.
• Think about hiring in-home senior care for your parents.
• Consider using identity theft protection services to prevent seniors from being scammed.
• Keep communication lines open with family members concerning needs, expectations, feelings and other issues.

Sandwich generation graphic: © Piscine26 / Adobe Stock.

There’s a natural progression of life most of us experience, no matter our race, ethnicity or background. We grow up: from childhood to adolescence to teenage years, eventually transitioning into adulthood. If we’re lucky, along the way we’ll have parents to guide us as we navigate life. The lessons we receive from them stay with us forever and provide a roadmap for when we encounter the various challenges of life. They also help us when we become parents ourselves.

While we may not be the same type of parent that ours were to us growing up, at the very least we have a blueprint to follow. That’s the beauty of parenthood. It’s also what has made me nervous from the moment I found out I was going to be a dad.

Being a parent means I have the responsibility to mold and shape a life, to prepare a child for every scenario it may face. I may not have all the answers, but when my children leave the nest, they should be well-equipped to be productive members of society. I was fortunate to have that in my life growing up, and I hope to do the same for my kids.

The jarring reality of aging parents

As I’ve become fully ingrained into fatherhood, my parents have transitioned into grandparent mode. This has made me realize there’s actually something I was not prepared for – dealing with aging parents. It’s inevitable if we are blessed enough to have our parents still with us. It’s still shocking nonetheless.

Growing up, we idolize our parents, especially our dads. They were superheroes. Even with their faults, they were larger-than-life figures who did everything in their power to provide for their families. That vision we have of them remains, even as we age ourselves. That’s why it’s so jarring when the reality of what they are now sets in.

Over the past few years, my dad has experienced some health challenges. The man I knew growing up has slowed down. The weekly routine for my parents now includes visits to various doctors to make sure they’re staying on top of their health. But the decline is not just physical. It’s mental as well. With the ever-changing technology landscape, parents often struggle to keep up, leaving it up to us to provide tech support to connect to Wi-Fi, “the Facebook,” and streaming services. And it always happens at the most inopportune time.

Patience, grace and love lead the way

Just as I have to exercise patience with my kids as they grow up, I have to do the same with my parents as they grow older. It’s a balancing act that forces me to flip the switch depending on who I’m dealing with.

They both require different versions of me. As a dad, I have to realize my kids are still new to the world. They’re still learning. I have to remind myself that they’re always watching and their little eyes see every reaction I have. They see how I act and how I respond to them. So even as they work my nerves, I have to remain cool. As a son, I have to exercise patience that is rooted in grace. The grace that helps me be understanding and gentle with my parents as they navigate this stage of their lives. As frustrating as it may get at times, I can’t lose my cool with them, either.

We owe it to our parents to be there for them in their golden years. That doesn’t make it any less challenging. It can test our sanity, for sure. Especially when we have our own responsibilities as parents to our own kids. I know what they’ve done for me over the years, so I push through. I also know one day I’ll be in the same position. And hopefully, my kids will be there for me to lend a helping hand.

Aging parents photo: ©Tetiana Soares / Adobe Stock.

I have virtually nothing in common with Tom Brady. He is rich and famous, I am not. He is unfairly good-looking, I am average (at best). As you read this, though, I have joined the otherwise impeccable Brady in one aspect of life – I am now 45 years old. 

Ugh.   

Before I start comparing my relative mediocrity to the NFL’s greatest quarterback, I think about something else we have alike – we are dads. And, as such, rather than depress myself with more comparisons between me and Brady, I asked my kids about turning 45. Three of my five, in fact, mentioned Tom Brady in their answers to my questions (we live in the Tampa Bay area, of course).   

I asked them a variety of questions about being 45. Their responses ranged from sweet to subtly cunning, from pragmatic to unrealistic. I am not sure if my children – ages 6 to 16 – softened my worries about advancing toward 50, but I do know that they each had me looking at mid-life differently. 

Question 1: Do you think 45 is old?

My older kids saw through this question right away – obviously attempting to provide comfort. Yosef, my oldest at 16 replied, “No! You seem like one of the younger dads of my friends.” 

Interesting. I pointed out that he recently described a co-worker as “an old guy at work” who, in my assessment, looked to be in his mid-30s. For now, I appreciated his hypocrisy. 

The younger the child, the more truly honest they will be. Each of my little ones – Everett, 9, and Emersyn, 6 – cut to the bone. They both referenced my age relative to that of their respective schoolteachers. 

Emersyn stated flatly, “Ms. V has three kids, Dad. But she’s only 33. I guess you are way older.”

Everett took a different spin. “I guess you are older than most of my friends’ dads,” he said.

The parenting lesson: teenagers lie (and, in this instance, that is OK).   

Question 2: What do you think you will be doing when you turn 45?

I had expected my kids to answer in a way that reflected their current passions currently lie. Only one did! Everett, my fourth grader, hopes to make a living hosting YouTube videos while fishing all over the world. All my other kids, though, were far more mundane.

Yosef says he will be a lawyer. Vivi might teach. Emersyn has her heart set on becoming a veterinarian. And Lynden made me shutter by telling me he would “probably end up doing something like you, Dad.”

So, after turning 45, would they be pursuing their passions or settling?

I could consider Lynden’s answer as a compliment – the idea that I have carved out an envious life. On the other hand, I came away disappointed my kids are not chasing lives that others might deem unattainable.  

Question 3: What innovations will have occurred by the time you are turning 45?

Yes, flying cars still dominated the predictions about the future for my little ones. Everett even impressed me with, “I hope all those flying vehicles are electric!” His conviction about sustainability made me proud. 

My older kids, though, offered other types of answers – mostly centered on the ability to never leave home. Everything to my teens MUST become virtual – from running errands to mowing the lawn to getting a haircut (huh?). Their answers caught me off guard. It made me think the next generation of innovators thinks about the world so, so differently than I did at their age. 

These conversations, particularly with my teenagers, had me thinking about the high school kid I was – relatively ignorant about the world outside of my Iowa town, certain that by middle age I would likely settle into a 9-to-5 life, and not be open to the idea that I could go (even literally) anywhere I wanted to. Comparing the teenage me to my kids had me thinking of my regrets while searching for parenting purpose in their answers. 

Do my kids believe they can truly do anything? 

What could they learn from the regrets I harbor?

Can my children be part of the team that innovates, not simply part of the masses that benefits from such innovations?

How does the way I age (ugh), the life I have, the man I am, help my kids become the people they will be when they are “old”? 

Yep, I am turning 45, just like Tom Brady. I cannot throw touchdown passes, or win Super Bowls (Go Bucs!), or have his flawless looks stare back at me in the mirror. I can, though, be the GOAT at helping my kids visualize the great things they can be doing during the era where cars will finally fly.

Photo: ©soupstock / Adobe Stock.

A couple of weeks ago while on the road, I hit play on – you guessed it –  a parenting podcast. I was just casually listening at first, but then a question caught my attention. To paraphrase, a host asked, “If our kids knew us as people would they like us?”

As the hosts advanced the discussion, they talked about the fact that our kids don’t really know who we are. As far as they’re concerned, we’re just familiar faces and they’ve gotten used to us being there. It’s their job to be kids and ours to be their parents and make sure they’re taken care of. But do they know us? Our personalities? What makes us tick? Do they know how we act when we’re not in mom or dad mode?

And if they did, would they like us?

Most kids see their parents as superheroes. We are larger-than-life figures there for them. We provide for them. They depend on us from the moment they enter the world until they branch off on their own – and often well beyond that if we’re honest. We’re their safety nets. As our kids grow from toddlers to adolescents and then into young adulthood, the parent-child dynamic changes, but the fact remains that we’ll always “just” be mom or dad. And for the most part, they like that.

But the reality is they often don’t know any better. Or to put it a different way, they don’t really know us, the person.

Unfortunately, many of us don’t realize our parents are actually people until we are much older ourselves and have our own families. It is then we finally understand some of the things our parents talked about and tried to teach us growing up. The lightbulb goes off. We finally get to sit at the adult table and hear their perspective on various topics. We see how they act around others and analyze it with a different lens. It can be a confusing revelation because when we finally realize our parents are people and see them for who they are, we are faced with a dilemma of whether we like what we see.

As I wrote in a previous article, one of the many lessons learned with age is realizing the parents you idolized growing up aren’t perfect. They aren’t superheroes. They’re human. Humans with flaws, emotions, insecurities, dreams and fears of their own, just like you and I.

And you may or may not like that person.

As I continued to listen to the podcast discussion, I wondered to myself if, as a dad, I’m “likable.” If my kids knew that sometimes I’m not the best person when I’m not in dad mode, would they still like me? If they knew some of my flaws, would their faces still light up when they see me walk through the door? Maybe they’ll be like me and not realize that their dad is not “perfect” until later in life. Maybe it won’t matter then.

What I can do is be as open and honest with them about who I am. Share my life experiences with them and let them know why I made certain decisions. I hope that, especially with my son, he’s able to see me feel emotions. If I’m as transparent with my kids as possible, they may see that Dad is a real person, and maybe they’ll still like me.

Photo: © Prostock-studio / Adobe Stock.

I added strength training to my exercise routine this year. That is to say, I’ve added strength training when my schedule permits working out. Being a stay-at-home dad and influencer/blogger eats up a lot of my time. There isn’t a lot of room for consistent “me time.”

Other than my long run on Saturdays, everything else fits in when it can. While I would love to be a gym rat, I can be a “home gym rat.” My teenage son has been acquiring weights and workout equipment over the past couple of years. As a result, my fitness routine has been a beneficiary of his growing collection.

Having my “dad life” and my new desired “fitness life” has made me realize the similarities between the two.

Balance is key to working out, good parenting

When working out, your legs need to be set right and balanced. If one thing is off, it could be a disaster. No matter what I do when I lift weights, I keep my feet shoulder width apart, my knees slightly bent, and my weight equally distributed. If I were to shift too much one way or the other, I’d fall or get hurt. When I’m set, not only will I keep myself from getting hurt, I can also carry a lot more.

The same goes for fatherhood. When I’m firm in my foundation, I can carry a lot more. Balance is important for parenting. A well-balanced dad can carry the weight his family needs him to. If unbalanced, the family can fall apart.

Know when to lessen the load

Some days when I work out, I can pile on the weights. Rep after rep adds to a great day of lifting weights. Then, there are days I struggle. Those days require extra attention. If the body is telling you “no” then something has to go. Pushing through could result in an injury and that can keep you from being your best for a long time. The saying “No Pain, No Gain” isn’t always true.

Dads try to put as much as we can on our plate . We believe we can shoulder all the responsibility and still be at our best. And sometimes, that can work out. Then there are days when you can’t. Those days require an adjustment. Carrying a little less those days can stop a permanent pain.

Stretching is as good as exercise

As I’ve gotten older, I’ve realized the importance of stretching. There was a time when I could jump right into a workout or run and have it not be a big deal. Now, my body has to be limbered up before I work out or run. Stretching helps keeps muscles healthy and flexible. If someone doesn’t stretch, the muscles can tighten and become sore.

Stretching is also good for dads. Often, we come into fatherhood with a set of ideas and beliefs. In the early years, we stick to them. Then, as the years pass, we’re stretched to new ways of thinking, believing and acting. If we don’t stretch, we can’t grow. Our lives seize up and tighten everyone around us. We must move beyond our believed norms for the benefit of everyone around us.

Routine is key workout, parenting success

Working out here or there is fine to start, but to get the transformation you desire, you need a routine. I devote one day to one muscle group, another day to a different group. It’s best to come up with a calendar of exercises for what you need to do on that day and for how long.

A good routine also helps you have a successful day of parenting. If there is a routine in place, everyone knows what is expected at a certain time. For example, my family’s lives are crazy during soccer season, but I still need a routine to guide us through. my kids must do their homework by a certain time before soccer practice or they’ll be too tired once we get home. If we wait, I get upset that they’re not prioritizing their day right.

You need a rest day

If you’re working out regularly, you need some time off to rest the muscles and relax. That doesn’t mean sitting on the couch all day and eating junk food. You go through the day and get done what you need to, but give those overused muscles a break.

A rest day for a dad is the same. You don’t need to sit on the couch all day, although it is nice on a Sunday afternoon during football season. Giving space to your kids while resting provides dads with a lift to get back at it the next day.

Working out your priorities

The one thing that doesn’t fit equally into the worlds of working out and fatherhood is self-sacrifice. When working out, you are the priority. Being a dad, you’re the last priority. Sometimes, I have to sacrifice my hopes and dreams of the lifestyle I want for the overall benefit of my family. It’s a sad moment, but as a father to four, it’s worth it. All that being said, when the time comes around again, put yourself back in action.

A version of this first appeared on One Good Dad. Photo: © VadimGuzhva / Adobe Stock.

Losing a parent is something you’re never adequately prepared for no matter how inevitable it might be.

My dad’s passing in December was both shocking and not. He had Parkinson’s disease for almost 30 years. Such a disease keeps mortality ever present in your mind, and his life had been increasingly difficult in recent years, but the end seemed to come like an afternoon thunderstorm during the Florida summer. Somewhat expected, but still completely jarring.

His passing left the earth beneath me unsteady. I often feel like I’m walking on the rocks beside a stream. Usually the walk is routine if I tread carefully, but it’s impossible to anticipate when a step might shake a rock loose and leave me scrambling to keep my balance.

Despite the hole his passing has left, I am grateful for all the time we had together, and I’ve taken some time over the last month to consider the lessons my dad taught me through his actions.

My dad was a highly accomplished scientist. He worked for the NASA Life Sciences program in a leadership role for several decades. He loved his work and the people he worked with. Seeing how important his work was to him taught me that it is important to find something in this life that brings you joy. It doesn’t have to be work, but it is nice if your job is more to you than just a paycheck.

He loved his family and was always present and supportive. He was so proud of all of us and would never forego an opportunity to discuss his children and grandchildren’s latest accomplishments, both real and sometimes slightly greatly exaggerated, with anyone who would listen. His family role was different than mine. He was primarily a breadwinner while I am primarily a caregiver, but he never voiced any qualms with my status as a stay-at-home parent. His example taught me the importance of fulfilling your role and always being proud of your children, whatever path they chose in life.

Remembering Dad, the sports fan

He loved sports, Wake Forest University sports in particular, and was a devoted fan all his life. Some of my greatest memories of him involve attending Wake Forest games. One that stands out is the ACC Championship Football Game that Wake Forest won 9-6 over Georgia Tech in 2006 on a very wet day in Jacksonville. It was a great payoff for my dad after a lifetime of fandom to finally see his beloved, but often over-matched, Demon Deacons prevail on a big stage. Sports may seem trivial, but my dad taught me a love of sports and the value of loyalty.

When I was around 10 years old, my dad, my brother, and I drove from Florida to Atlanta to watch Wake Forest play in the NCAA Basketball Tournament. We watched them win their opening round game and then drove back late at night. In classic dad fashion, we stopped off at a very affordable, but rather sketchy Passport Inn alongside the highway in central Georgia. I remember it being a place you were well advised to refrain from touching much of anything like the carpet or bed sheets. Life lesson? I’m not sure. Frugality is a virtue, I guess? I probably didn’t learn this lesson too well. To this day, I prefer hotel rooms where you can touch things.

I lived with my parents for longer than many people do, so my relationship with them grew and evolved over the years. I remember the months my dad and I lived together alone while my mom was in New York receiving medical treatments. He drove with me to a rather sketchy home to pick up my new chihuahua puppy that I had found in a newspaper classified ad. It was basically the Passport Inn of puppy trafficking homes. And while my dad wasn’t a huge dog fan, I’m sure he understood I needed something in that challenging time of young adulthood complicated by parental illness. Even if emotional openness wasn’t our thing, I will always be grateful for my dad’s support and I hope to be a reliable and understanding presence for my children.

What will my kids memories of Dad be? 

I remember staying with my mom and dad in Winston-Salem when they both were fighting cancer and driving them to the hospital several mornings per week for my dad’s radiation therapy. I listened to Green Day CDs over and over again during those drives. I’m sure he didn’t completely understand the music selection as he sat beside me in the passenger seat, but he never complained. My dad taught me the value of not speaking just for the sake of speaking. Sometimes silent understanding is what people need most.

I wish my children were older so they could remember more about their grandfather, but I am hopeful some of his lessons reached them as well. I hope they will remember his kindness, his love, and his leading them in drumming their hands on the table at dinner time. I hope they will remember the things they did together like raking leaves, sweeping the driveway, untangling Christmas lights, and using his walker as a roller coaster. I hope they will remember how they helped my mom keep up with their Granddad’s pill schedule and how they brought him his iced tea.

My father was still teaching lessons late in his life. This time, to his young grandchildren. They learned the importance of caring for people in need and they learned that no one can make it in this life alone. We all need help.

My children are still very young, and they might not remember Dad much, but I definitely will. I’ll remember the life lessons and I’ll remember the memorable moments. I’m holding onto these memories a little extra tight. Right now, and for years to come.

Remembering dad photo: ©  Olesia Bilkei / Adobe Stock.

On the day this piece will be published, I’ll turn 40. I have a 5-year-old, a 3-year-old, and, wait for it, a post-vasectomy 4-month-old.

Yeah, it’s been that kind of year.

Or maybe it’s just been that kind of life?

I have no career. I have published zero novels, and despite having spent tens of thousands of dollars on college, I have zero college degrees. As far as banks are concerned, I own nothing. As far as history is concerned, I’ve accomplished nothing.

By now I was sure I’d be a successful novelist blasting around in Porsches, spending summers on Lake Tahoe and winters on the Gulf Coast. As I gracefully slipped into 40, I was certain my kids would be nearly graduated high school, well adjusted, and proud of their successful father. Instead, they are just learning how to read and potty train and one is barely able to put her hands in her drooling, toothless mouth.

Life, man. It does what it wants.

If I measure my life by a standard others may impose upon me, the above list of failures would be crippling. If I were to surrender to societal norms, I’d approach this imposing age milestone with regret and an excess of emotional baggage I’d drag to the Chevy dealership, hoping it’d fit into the trunk of the newest mid-engine ‘Vette.

Alas, no crisis for me. No wild spending. No illicit tryst. I enter 40 triumphant, confident and emboldened to experience life in its rawest forms.

Why? Because I’m a dad.

Being a dad is life’s real challenge. It’s pretty easy to procreate. Hell, I did it after I had a vasectomy. I even had a post-procedure infection that stole nearly a year of my life, almost killed me (I think), and then, after all that, I got my wife pregnant. During those moments when I went to sleep uncertain I’d ever wake up, only one thing was on my mind: my kids.

I didn’t lament the lack of book deals. I wasn’t annoyed I was driving a VW instead of a Porsche (most of the time). I never, not once, pondered any of the things a “successful man” must’ve surely accomplished by age 40. I only longed to see the sun again, so I could see the light reflected in my children’s eyes.

Dramatic? Yeah, a little.

True? Completely.

So go find one of your kids. Give them one of those potentially annoying dad hugs (bonus points if this is in front of their friends), dig your nose deep down into their hair, breathe deep, and cling to the moments that matter most.

Society is filled with those eager to point out what you lack, eager to laugh at your failures, and desperate to prove you don’t measure up. As the years pile on, these judgments increase. The pressures increase. The ways to measure yourself against others become limitless, but I encourage you dads to remove yourself from the destructive narrative that we all must follow the same path. Instead, follow the path that leads you to conclude being a good dad is life’s greatest achievement.

While I’m deeply satisfied by the abundance of unconditional love swirling around my home, I’m still hoping for that Porsche. Maybe by 50?

Hmm. By then, I’ll have a 15-, 13-, and 10-year-old. Maybe at 60.

Fatherhood path photo: ©candy1812 / Adobe Stock.