Things My Dad Never Told Me

Today's guest blogger is Gary Lester, the Executive Director of Family Services of Warren County—a charitable agency that provides counseling, substance abuse services, and support groups. Gary worships at First Lutheran Church in Warren, PA.

Fathers’ Day is Sunday, a good time to reflect on paternal influence.

Dad never told me I was stupid. I do some counseling with guys in the jail. Many of them say their dads told them just that, over and over again. Guess what? Many believe it! If I tell them they have good insight into an issue, they act like they never heard that before. Maybe they haven’t. Sad, isn’t it?

Dad never told me women were property or inferior in some way or other. Clients in our Healthy Relationships Program heard those very things. The man is the boss, the man makes all the decisions, the man is the king of the castle... These attitudes don’t serve very well. Dad and Mom had (and still have) issues like everyone else, but they’ve worked through them for more than 60 years. Not a bad track record and not a bad example.

Dad never told me I was worthless. I’ve seen men in tears when they tell of such heartless remarks. Imagine the constant message: “You’ll never amount to anything.” We’re supposed to believe what our dads tell us, right?

Dad never told me “big boys don’t cry,” at least I don’t recall him telling me such a thing. Little boys certainly do cry and so do “big boys” sometimes.  I don’t think that’s a bad thing. I suppose a certain amount of stoicism is healthy, but we guys should be cut little slack. What about laughing ‘til we get tears in our eyes? Dad and I used to fall out of our chairs watching Red Skelton! And what about grief? A few tears in times like that should be acceptable. They are for me, Dad understands.

Dad never told me I had to be a baseball player, or a golfer, or a hunter, or a fisherman, or a musician. There was no pressure nor was there any vicarious thrill of living out his life through mine. He exposed me to all those things and gave me the space to experiment, to fail, to succeed, and to stay involved in the things that appealed to me.

Dad never told me what I should do education or career-wise. He was very successful for many years in his career in insurance sales. Most people avoid guys in that business but people appreciated Dad’s advice and fairness. There are even stories about him NOT trying to sell people what they didn’t need! Even if they asked for it! People my age still say: “I remember when your Dad would stop by the house… Mom and Dad thought he was great, and he was so friendly to us kids...”  And there were the loaves of homemade bread, jars of jam and jelly and pickles, and other tokens brought home that were further testimony of clients’ appreciation. But Dad didn’t pressure me to follow in his footsteps. He supported and encouraged me as I explored my own interests.   I remember when he bought me my first good camera at Everett Borg’s shop, a shiny, new Miranda. It launched me into a 20-plus year career in photography. I doubt that was ever on his radar as a career for me, and I’m sure he had his doubts about my future, but the support was there anyway.

And Dad never told me people were dangerous or stupid or that we were better than someone because of nationality, politics, or color. Instead he’d say something like: “Bob is a little different, but…” and he’d follow the “but” with something positive, a reason to connect with Bob. This taught me to look for the good in people and when I do, I usually find something. That’s some advice everyone can use these days.

So HAPPY FATHERS’ DAY, DAD, and thanks for all the things you never told me.

This column originally ran in the June 17, 2011 edition of the Times Observer.