Did You See That, Dad?

One of the most beautiful relationships in life can be between the father and son. Innately a son is brought into this life peering upwards towards the eyes of his father; searching for every ounce of understanding about himself, about HIM, about life and how he, the son, should navigate it. The father's role, in this young boys life, becomes immense - for he is the rock that the son will grind and ultimately break himself upon.

The son will, infinitely, long for his attention, his approval, his rivalry, his spirit, his heart, his courage and his compassion. This longing is woven into the son's DNA, it is genetically bound inside of him to see his father as his tribe leader, as his chief that, one day, he will ultimately take or inherit the village. This bond, this relationship's solidity, or lack thereof, is the bedrock to the son's path to manhood.

Conversely, this same father will gaze down into his son's wide eyes - staring back at him this father will see his immortality. In this moment the father has now received his first hints of a realized legacy. He is holding it. He is embracing a creation that will carry his name. He breathed this creation in to life. It is in this very second that the man's spirit, his very soul decides what he wants to do with this legacy.

How will he nurture it? How will he show him the ways of the world that he has thus far navigated? Will he be able to teach him the path his own father taught him?

What, then, if this father staring at his son knows his father wasn't there for him? Can we possibly father if we, ourselves, were not fathered?

The first time I held my son it was as if I was holding the best parts of myself, the best parts of my bloodline. I was looking at history and the future all at the same time. He was so gross but so immensely gorgeous, so angelically ash-grey and gooey, but I couldn't stop holding him. I couldn't stop looking at this -- person. My son.

That moment was the first time I felt direction. I felt it. I didn't know what it was, but this stirring urged me to put the pieces together to map it out. This was not just a simple want; no it was The Calling, the caveman calling inside of me that howled to lead my tribe. To be the chief. I needed war paint.

From that very second on I could only envision fishing trips, ball in the front yard, skinned and scraped knees, treehouses, camp fires with S'mores, all of the sporting events possible and evenings under a big blanket watching one of our favorite Pixar movies with the biggest bowl of the most buttery popcorn we could find.

But the original vision that came rushing in - it doesn't fill the majority of time in between those moments. The ones where life lessons will need to be taught with discipline, routine, consistency, sternness and punishment unveiled from a place of love.

This original vision does not include the ultimate fear we face at raising this small thing we now have named.

What I could have never imagined was the energy I would spend figuring out my own path on how to father my two boys.

When looking at the "wounds of the father" (John Eldredge) a boy goes into manhood with many questions about his masculinity unanswered. The longer these questions go unanswered, the more they will likely become permanent questions for that son.

The role of the father has oft been of disciplinarian, authoritarian and provider. Typically the focus on this provision is monetary. The man works, the woman rears. This has been a misguided, ill-informed program religiously followed for decades. This was the mandate passed over the sons and what they could expect from their fathers - absolutely fucking nothing, but cold, angry, seemingly bitter, exhausted men that held the title "dad" to them.

I didn't want to be this mythical authoritarian to my children. The relationship I wanted to nurture was an intimate understanding from them that THEY are the best things in my entire life. No matter what I accomplish, professionally, it will never be more important, have a higher precedent than the two of them. I was NOT going to be the side-lined dad.

But to avoid that, one has to understand the full scope of providing for our children. It is not one parents responsibility to nurture (i.e. the mother) and the others role of disciplinarian (i.e. the father). Each has its role and each role is necessary in different fundamental time frames of the child's life. This means for my boys, early on I had to learn to accompany their need for being held, reassured, nurtured in a manner that is separate from how their mother might do it. The need from me in that regard is different for a young boy than it is from what he needs from his mother. Sometimes that meant tough love; standing firm on a decision from an action to produce problem resolution. Other times it meant simply sitting and listening to what they were feeling. Yes, feeling.

I am the example of what a man is to my boys, I must show them, we must show them that men feel. That our feelings get hurt, that we worry, get scared, are uncertain from time to time and probably more often than we would care to admit. Admitting these things does not make a man beta. It does not make him weak. Do not buy the hoorah shit that a man doesn't or shouldn't express these things at times. THAT is weak. THAT is as beta as it gets, it's just cloaked in the negative connotations of being alpha. This is part of the bedrock of what makes being Alpha so unappealing to so many.

The greatest challenge we have as fathers is to connect with our children. Get to know who they really are inside and out.

So many often there is the use of the catch phrase, "Little People..." and that is EXACTLY right! They are, in fact, little people. They have their hopes, dreams, fears, stresses, likes, dislikes - they have their feelings just like we as adults. They are not meant to be only seen and not heard. They are not meant to be a side note to the story of YOUR life.

But, we ARE the story of THEIR life - the most fundamental, impressionable part of their lives.

If you've ever been to therapy then you know one of the main questions the therapist will ask is, "What was your childhood like?" or some variation of that question. They will want to know what you experienced; in that, what your relationship was like with your father and with your mother. In this process of discovery, they are going to determine if there was neglect or if your parents or which parent was the "shoulder", the confidant for you when you needed someone most.

Why is that question so commonly asked? If it's such an important part of our psyche as adults, why do we as parents not dive deeper into the relationships we establish with our sons and daughters?

My father was great about providing his insights and wisdom for my brother and myself. He gave his time when he had it, but we also grew up in the lower middle class, which meant the man worked long hours and he worked a lot of them. He did what he had to do to provide for his family which meant sacrificing time that, I'm sure, he would have loved spending on us as opposed to the jobs he worked to feed and house us.

So it wasn't until much later in life that I really got to break down elements of life, manhood, fatherhood with him. This, unfortunately, was interrupted by a divorce that was hard on everyone. We were all trying to survive, we were all keeping our heads above the emotional flood of the time. Through that, much of the conversation, much of the advice was given in regard to relationships - what not to do, what to look out for, how trust can be such a fickle thing.

But the lessons that this upbringing and these experiences have brought me is a broader view on how I perceive the relationship with my two boys. What am I SHOWING them? What are they learning from me through my actions? Naturally, I want to display hard work, strong character, a moral and mental fortitude. These things are a must for young men; however, I realized that what I HAD to offer them was the full swath that is ME. Justin, not just DAD.

I am open with them about my struggles. Transparent about relationships - platonic and otherwise. We speak of finances, religion, government, sexuality, drugs and alcohol... Why would we hide from these conversations just because they might be a bit uncomfortable? By giving them who I am, where I've been, the mistakes and the successes; I can better show an example to what life can and will throw at them. This is also real. It is being real - DO NOT sell them short on their ability to identify bullshit. Openness provides trust which breeds respect and this branches into a willingness to follow.

This is important for when those circumstances arise that you have to discipline. When you have to correct their course and do so with a strong punishment. Having trust will better deter the feeling of being ostracized and, ideally, help them understand their actions and correct on their own terms in the future to not repeat.

Regardless of circumstance, I hug them when they get up, before they leave for school, when they get home and when they go to bed. I hug them hard and often. We hug before I distribute a punishment. Why? I do this so that there is a standard set through the physical contact that love is very much present. That my responsibility to them is to show them and provide them a foundation of moral character that is strong, filled with integrity and compassion. Presenting them an example of, even though I might be mad, hurt, disappointed, frustrated or all of the above; we as men can handle those emotions calmly, with compassion and understanding to then process them fairly and logically.

What is the benefit?

They express themselves to me openly. They know that we are a unit and that I, while the leader of the band, am present and an open source to help them navigate their worlds as it comes at them. If they struggle, WE struggle. If they hurt, WE hurt. If they're happy, WE are happy. They are not alone in their thoughts, they are not guessing about what I think or feel for them. They are, simply put, NOT ALONE.

As I stated at the beginning; the relationship between a father and son can be one of the most beautiful in this life. What I guarantee is that I'm fortunate enough to have figured this out. I'm fortunate enough to have realized how important my role is to their lives. I am fortunate enough that I ascertained how to "see my kids" and that they know that I see them.

In return, their relationship with me has changed my life. They have made me a better man. They have made me wiser, stronger and more compassionate than I have ever thought possible.

I will not look back with regret wishing I could have poured of myself into my sons. Ideally, they will not look back and long for more of my time, more of my attention, more of my love for them. This is a regret the three of us will be able to avoid. For this I am beyond grateful.

As you finish this, as it closes, I ask you this one question;

"Do you see your children?"

J.L. Copeland