Reflections from dads I spoke to

I read between the lines and remembered my conversations to try and get wisdom from the fathers I interviewed. They don’t tell stories of being fathers. They are. This is an attempt to squeeze fatherhood from their stories. Here we go.

Smart fathers play with their children. They help them put things together and tear things apart.

Cool dads make fun of themselves as they let their children laugh with them. They embarrass their teenagers in front of their friends. Just enough.

No matter how old they get, they’re still his children.

Fathers are happiest when their kids are proud of them. They’re filled with joy to see their children accomplished and happy.

You don’t have to father a child to become one. Some of the best, marry you and take your kids as their own. Others adopt.

A father can play mom, and a good one, too.

He can carry the guilt of working hard and of not spending enough time with his family. Some of them are burdened with balancing family time with a higher cause that consumes them.

When they’re about to lose a child, everything dwarfs to the task of saving one.

Remember when you were just a few kilos, and would cuddle in his lap. As a young woman, do it now and then. Talk to him. It’s heartwarming. To him, too.

When you’re mad at him, remember the times he made you feel like a princess. Hold on to that and use it to fuel your love for him.

If he tells you to dress up more appropriately, …well, you know what to do.

As a young man, you played ball with him, you wrestled, you built something, you fished, hunted, or just sat on the porch and talked. Do something again.

Fathers like it when mothers teach their children to appreciate and love their dad.

If you never knew your father, the universe sends you father figures to choose from—some in ties, others in t-shirts, uniforms, or collars. Pick an assortment. Pick wisely.

If your father passed on, honor him by living a life that he would have wanted for you. Every so often, pause and talk to him. Then, when in a decision-making situation: “What would Papa do?”

No matter the separation between parents, it’s cruel to forbid fathers from seeing their children.

Fathers tend to struggle alone. They cry. They pray. For guidance. For support. For daily bread. For themselves. And for their families.

A father’s love is not unconditional. No one’s love is. If he doesn’t show it, it doesn’t mean he loves you less.

A father does his best always to show love to his children’s mother. When he argues with her, they make up. They argue. They make up. They argue a little more, and hopefully, they still make up.

A father gives his children a sense of belonging. His actions nurture the continuity of the family narrative.

He does his best to keep the gift that keeps on giving — to love your mom. If you’re the wife reading this, it might be a stretch :).

On father’s day or on any day you like, give him a break. If you haven’t spoken for a while, pick up the phone, talk to him with intention. Let him wrap up the conversation. When you see him, hug him like you mean it. Don’t let go until he releases.

When he grows older and slower, be extra patient. Try to answer his every question, especially when he repeats them. Try.

You’re blessed when your father passes away in your arms. You’re lucky if you have a ritual with him. If you don’t, get lucky.