Daughters and Fathers

Picture courtesy of ... me and my girls.

Having five daughters I truly feel blessed with each and every single one of them. With each baby girl I see little parts of me and little parts of their Mom. Most of all I see five individuals that are so unique and so full of life and love that sometimes it scares me. Sometimes I worry about them and many, far to many times Mom tells me to stop it and let them just grow up as life intended.

There is not one relationship between all of them and me as the Dad that is the same. Serious talks are with one, gut busting laughs with another, belly pokes with another, horse play with another, and of course the Princess. Reverse each role and pick and choose and it could be anyone of my daughters for that given day. Each one of them has their own personal version of who Daddy is to them and that is something I tend to prefer.

I’ve heard tales of children in large families that were their fathers favorite, loved more, cherished over the other children or just simply favored. I personally can’t buy that point of view with my own children. Someday they may say I favored one over the other but I love each one of them as an individual.

I’m addicted to my children and each one of them is a project in the making. Building the lives of children to be adults is not easy but it is a job that as a parent I have to do my best from the experience I was raised on. How we all progress through this journey we call life is amazing for some and disturbing for some people. I’m fortunate to benefit from the amazing side and I’m not complaining. I’ve never claimed to anyone to be perfect to anyone and God above knows my mistakes, my faults, my fears. I can only hope and pray that I raise my daughters well and that they reflect my judgments’ and of course their Mothers in the lives they soon will lead.

I’m getting older and someday these children I raised and loved all of their lives will one day have to care for me or their Mom. Mom is the better candidate because I really don’t take care of myself like she does so that is what it is. It might just be grocery shopping or helping with the household bills but building a family is a life long event that happens. How it happens is up to you and your relationship with your children.

There is the old saying that anyone can be a father but it takes a real man to be a Dad. I think I have the father part down but being a Dad is a one day at a time job. Time will tell if I will ever meet that honored title.

Papamoka

Fathers Day and Real Dad’s

Fathers Day is here again and all I can think of is my own Dad that passed away in 2003. My Dad was a good man, an honest man, a hardworking man that happened to have seven kids. He was Irish and the television was broken so I’m not giving any excuses for a large family.

Dad loved his family and he showed it as best he could and the only way that he knew how. He never bought expensive toys for himself. No golf clubs, no motorcycles, no fancy clothes or shoes. Matter of fact he used to go to a shoe repair shop to get his heals and souls replaced. This was a Dad that dropped his paycheck in Mom’s hand and he hadn’t signed his own name on it in over thirty years. Mom signed, cashed, and paid the families bills. What the family needed he provided the means. Mom handled the details of how to get it done with the money they had.

I recall the good times more so than my older siblings and to me he just wasn’t the man that made and enforced the rules of a large family but he was also my friend. My Dad was not the same Dad that my sisters knew. Dad loved his daughters but he never understood how the female mind worked so he stepped aside and let Mom handle the alien species of the household. He wasn’t the same Dad that my older brothers knew either. With each one of his seven children he had only his own personal way of dealing with his children. He wasn’t a Doctor Phil Dad but he gave it his best shot. Where he may have failed in some of his children’s eyes he succeeded in others. Seven children are seven very different people. Each one of his children had a very different relationship with him. Some of us took to heart what he was all about and some of us chucked the bird at him for being over protective and concerned when Mom was crying.

We all grew up, we all survived Dad at his worst and Dad at his best. What I love to remember most is that he loved all his children no matter our faults and failures. We were and are all his babies and that is what a true Dad is all about.

Dad became frail after Mom died. He ventured back up north from Florida. When he started to decline we took care of Grampa Jack as best we could. When Alzheimer’s took over his mind I know that he and I were still a team. Till his last day on this Earth he still looked at me as a friend, someone he could be comfortable with and a calm place to be in a storm of confusion. He didn’t know my name but I knew his. That is all that mattered.

Being the baby boy it was he and I that bonded the most. I will never have a friend that will accept me no matter my faults like my Dad did and frankly I never want to replace the friendship that my Father and I had. Jack O’Keefe was my best friend and he was also my Dad. I loved him as a friend and also as my Dad. I can only hope that I can be half the man he was as a father.

Happy Fathers Day Dad!

I love you Dad and miss you my friend,

Matthew