Happy Father's Day

I got a call today from my son -- or stepson. He thanked me for doing such a good job bringing him up. That took me back a bit. Where was that attitude when I was raising him? But looking back on it, I guess I did do a pretty good job -- when I was there. When I first met him, James was the most messed up three-year-old I'd ever seen. When he woke up in the morning, his mouth would open before his eyes and he'd start screaming. Since he lived with has mother and grandmother, someone would always be there to hasten to his call. Whenever his mother would come home from work or the store, he'd expect her to have a toy or a treat. And she always did. He was being treated like a puppy instead of a boy. His days were an unending series of tantrums. The first time I said "no" to him after becoming his father was a battle of Biblical proportions. Did you ever see the Helen Keller story? I lived it. My first job was to act as a buffer between him and his permissive mother. We moved out of my mother-in-law's house immediately. Since he didn't have a male role model, it was my job to be one. I divorced myself from any pursuits other than family activities. He was very proud of me in my uniform, especially when I wore my ribbons. So I started wearing them all the time. I found that a side benefit was that those five rows of ribbons also intimidated junior officers. That's always a plus. James needed a hero, so I became his. Roy Rogers and Gene Autry and the Lone Ranger never did anything to make me ashamed of them and I never did anything to make my son ashamed of me. Within three months, my wife's relatives and friends told her James had become a new person. I really did become his dad. One day when he was about 16, he came down with something and the doctor asked about the family health history. So, I started rambling on about MY family. Didn't catch myself till I saw my son and wife grinning at me. Fatherhood was a lot to take on at the tender age of 23, but If you do it right, it changes you. It makes you into the kind of parent not only your children want but the kind that sometimes you wanted and didn't have. The Golden Rule describes parenthood perfectly.