A bit of Fathers Day philosophy

I can't for the life of me
Remember a sadder day
I know they say let it be
But it just don't work out that way
And the course of a lifetime runs
Over and over again
        -- Paul Simon, 1972

From Sophocles (Oedipus) to Shakespeare (Hamlet) to D.H. Lawrence (Sons and Lovers) to Paul Simon (“Mother and Child Reunion”), literature is fill of references to the parent/child relationship.

The “sadder day” came for me not really as parent or child, but rather as observer at an attempted mother and child reunion that took place during the days following my wife’s death in 1999. I watched as two members of my family, who had been estranged for years, came together to mourn and – it seemed – nearly set aside their grievances and embraced the potential benefits that come with reconciliation.

The parent-child connection is obviously our first relationship and arguably the most important. And it’s also incredibly complicated and fraught with danger. Few, if any, parents can claim to have not made significant mistakes while rearing their offspring; and few, if any, of us can honestly assert that we have been perfect children.

According to my informal -- but rather extensive -- research, the most common reason for retired people to sell their homes and relocate is to move closer to one or more of their children.

I’ve observed dozens of children as they interact with aging parents and have seen a range of conduct that spans the gamut from heart-warming to heart breaking.

Some of the best of these observations have been of relations between fathers and sons. When there is affection, respect, a long history of shared experience and tolerance, the resulting interaction reminds me more of friendship than anything else.

I never had a friendship with my own father. In Hollywood terms, he sort of played a minor role in my life story. He was more of a character actor with few lines who occasionally advanced the plot but, in the end, who proved to be neither antagonist nor protagonist.

I hope to play a supporting role in my son’s life. Seven or eight years ago, I made an observation that I believe improved and advanced my relationship with Jesse: I realized that he is a good deal more intelligent than I and, in many ways, more capable. He has proved to be a real friend to me in times of need and I have learned to depend on him – and to enjoy doing so.

The two of us are as different as were my own father and me – but I’m hopeful that our friendship and bond of love will grow as the years go by.

Trusting my son – including trusting his judgment and ability to make the critical decisions in his own life – frees me to offer advice without being overly “parental.” I hope that I achieve that goal more often than I fail.

I believe that most of us fathers share the same wish on this day: that our children find joy in their lives; and that we are able to bask in the wonderful glow of that joy.

Best wishes, fellow fathers.

I don't give a hang what he does
As long as he does what he likes!
He can sit on his tail
Or work on a rail
With a hammer, hammering spikes!
He can ferry a boat on a river
Or peddle a pack on his back
Or work up and down
The streets of a town
With a whip and a horse and a hack.

He can haul a scow along a canal
Run a cow around a corral
Or maybe bark for a carousel
Of course it takes talent to do that well.

Aha-ha-ha-ha!
He might be a champ of the heavyweights,
Or a feller that sells you glue,
Or President of the United States,
That'd be all right, too
His mother would like that
But he wouldn't be President if he didn't wanna be!
        --“Carousel,” 1945