Wisdom and Fathers

I have been without the physical presence of my Father for 37 years.

My son is now the same age I was when my Father passed away.

When I try to connect those ages, my mind reaches for catastrophic thinking. I notice it. And then I keep going. Because I am a much different person at 54 than I was at 17.

The 37 years in between saw me get married. Build a career. And yes, become a Father myself.

I don't know how many years I have left. But I fully expect to be here when my son turns 18. When he graduates from high school. When he graduates from college. These are the moments my own Father never got to see.

What I miss most is the ability to have a conversation with him.

At 17, my immaturity kept me from leaning into what he was trying to teach me. Those talks felt painful to a child. But I carry the memories now, and as an adult I finally recognize them for what they were: wisdom.

Who I am. What I do. How I move through the world. It all came from my Father's love for me — a love he rarely spoke out loud, but showed in action.

Sometimes it takes years for those actions to reveal themselves. That is how wisdom works. It sits right in front of us the whole time. Wisdom doesn't change. We do. With time, we finally understand what was there all along.

I know this day is not gentle for everyone.

In a world with so many dysfunctional Fathers, so many children carrying trauma, this day brings real pain and disappointment for a lot of people. I see you. I hold space for that.

And I am thankful. I am grateful for the Father I had.

What is something a parent or mentor tried to teach you that you couldn't receive until years later — and what finally made it land?