Fatherhood for the Fatherless
Earlier this week a good friend of mine called me with a challenging question. He explained that he had fears of being a father because he lacked any kind of stable father figure growing up. He, knowing I just entered the realm of dad-hood, wanted my take on the issue.
Ten months ago I became a dad to Noah John Betson. I gotta tell you; this guy is awesome! I’m not talking about the clique use of awesome we all use when something subpar happens. I really mean it. He’s AWESOME! Most of you know that I’m not the funniest man alive, I usually get a laugh by accident when I fall into the word pit (It’s when you start talking and can’t stop, next thing you know you’re in a word pit unable to climb out.). I’m convinced Noah believes I’m the funniest man alive! I just hope he feels that way when I’m 40 and bald.
When Noah was born I was scared to death, like most dads. But many of my fears weren’t grounded in the present, they were in my past.
Like a lot of guys today, my father wasn’t a huge part of my childhood or teen years. He had a lot of issues he was working through, some of those issues took hold of him though. During my childhood there was a lot of drug use, when I was thirteen the drugs really took hold of his life. One day I arrived home from school to find out we (my sisters, mother, and I) were leaving our house and weren’t coming back. That was the end of any possible relationship I could have with my father, in fact it wasn’t until close to ten years later that I spoke to him.
I say all of this to simply give the backstory to what is next. Now that that’s out of the way, on to Noah again!
The moment Noah was born the fear of fatherhood set in. The typical things went through my mind like… “He’s going to puke on me,” “he better not pee on my mouth,” and “am I really going to have to change a poopy diaper?”
After those initial thoughts went through my mind I started to really worry… Thinking, “can I do this?” You see, I’ve never actually seen how fatherhood should work on a day basis.
I expressed these thoughts to friends and family and their response way genuine, but simply difficult to understand as truth.
“You’ll be fine Bill, you know what not to do!”
While that’s true, I only know one of the 320,000 ways to screw up being a dad. Sure, I understand that drugs aren’t something I should be doing. I get it, I get it very much actually.
What the 30 minute phone conversation led to was a realization for me. This friend has the ability to get me thinking! I realized: It’s okay that I worry. I may always worry about being a good dad, and truthfully I’m already freaking out about Noah being a teenager.
My friend and I may always worry, but I think that’s okay. We’ve already set ourselves apart from our fathers. He’s an amazing husband to his wife, he cares about communication, he desires to love her always. I’d like to say the same about me.
Often I let worry overtake me. With fatherhood this cannot happen, but a checkup every so often is a pretty healthy concept.
Is this something you struggle with? How do you “dad?”
The first one
I need to be honest, I’m not sure how long I’ll do this blog. Fact is, I bought a domain and feel the need to get my money’s worth. I understand this isn’t the best way to gain readership, but like I said in “The Why,” I’m almost certain this will not be the next must read thing. It may only be read when I proof read it when I’m finished.
Anyway, this is what I wanted to write about…
The other night some friends of Emily and mine invited us to a civic organization. This group does a ton of great things for the community, everything from helping children to throwing community events… It’s great!
During the meeting the President had everyone introduce themselves. (Which was great because I knew a total of four people out of the 20 or so) The introductions went something like this for each member of the group: My name is Sally O’Malley. I work at such and such company. I am on Names 5 committees.
This is great stuff, everyone in the room had a bunch of stuff said after their name.
Then. It came to me. You see, at the moment I am…sort of unemployed. So after hearing where everyone is in their career I thought… What should I say? Blogger? (I wrote the Why by that point) Consultant? (I like giving advice) I just wasn’t sure.
So what did I get out? “Bill Betson, first time here.” I thought it was smooth. I even acted like I forgot to say my profession after the next person went by tossing up my arms a bit above the table and shaking my head in a “Ah Shucks” motion.
Maybe this is just how unemployed people think but I thought, “Why in the world do we place such an emphasis on our profession when speaking to others?” Have you ever thought about that? Why?
Yesterday I read an obituary from a man who suddenly died while shoveling snow. Guess how many times his family wanted people to know where he worked? One time. One sentence. That was it. The rest of the obituary focused on how awesome a father and husband he was. It focused on what he did for others.
Next time I go to a meeting and introductions are asked, I am going to say: “I’m Bill Betson. I am the husband to Emily and the father to Noah.”
I’ll even say that when I’m not kind of unemployed.
Bill Betson 