Okay dads, what is the greatest gift you can give your children? What's the best thing your dad gave you? Was it your first bicycle, first pocket knife, first car? Did he give you toys, tools, tickets, trips? I venture to say, you can't remember the majority of thing your dad gave you as a kid. A friend of mine likes to start a conversation by asking, "What did you get for your eighth birthday for you dad?" Well...?
If you can remember at all, I venture to guess it was a struggle, dragging up vague impressions of things that might have seemed vital at the time but became all but worthless a year, maybe as little as a month, later. Why? Because things, possessions don't last, not in our hands, not in our minds. If it was easy to recall the answer to that question then it's because some special significance was attatched to the answer. Something made it memorable.
Now, another question. Do you remember that time your dad took you fishing? Bowling? Camping? What about watching a movie with you? Teaching you a game? Teaching you a skill? Maybe you do remeber that pocket knife because dad taught you how to use it. My dad gave me an old knife of his for my first. And when I cut myself, he was there to bandage the cut, too. Chances are you have at least one memory of doing something with your dad. For some, it may be a rare and precious thing. For others, the memories run together because he always seemed to be there, even when he wasn't. His presence seemed to fill the home.
And that it. His presence. Presents or presence? Which did you recieve? Which do you give? Fathers, we know we must provide. It is a drive set deep in our hearts. We
must provide food, clothes, shelter, opportunity, education. We are drawn to the responsibilty, can hardly help ourselves to do it, cannot help bear guilt when we can't. The unemployment line is harsh for that guy who has no one else but himself to depend on. It is a terrifying prospect to a man who has children at home who survive by the sweat of his brow. This is truth. We feel it, an invisible yoke on the shoulders of all mankind, to feed and cloth those who share our name and our home.
So, we have to work because we have to provide, now here comes the rest. What
else must we provide? Fashion is important to kids, for social standing, for self-esteem. Toys and games for entertainment. Clubs and sports for opportunities. More than a man could ever hope to pay for is out there to buy for you and yours. And mine. And what can I do? How can I be sure they have everything they need? Every dollar I spend must be earned. So we drudge to the offices and factories and log our hours, building prestige with the company or storing up overtime pay. We spend those precious hours of our life working and hope that our families, our children will understand. Our wives apologize for us when we cannot come to the ball games, the recitals, the graduations. And we provide. We provide all that we can.
Except ourselves. They receives years of presents without our presence. Are we doing what's best for them? According the US Dept. of Health and Human Services, if you see ten kids, homeless or runaway, nine of them are without a father. Of ten tragic stories you hear of a young suicide, six were without a father. The statistics run like this into every area of human suffering. But statistics are dead and dry. Think of you're own children. Working two many hours, will by no means, drive them to run away or commit suicide, but if a father's presence is so critical, is it then the best gift you can give?
This week, decide to give your kids the present of your presence. Consider how you spend your money and your time decide if you could use more or less of each. Above all, remember that you ARE your children's hero. You didn't have to earn with it, they were born loving you and nearly worshipping your every action. Make the most of that opportunity. Be there, be the hero they already believe you are. You don't have to be perfect, you just have to be there.
