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Monday, June 04, 2007

The Ferociousness of Fathers

We often hear about a mother's drive to protect and defend her children at all costs, but rarely does anyone mention the paternal instinct (among humans, anyway) to do the same.

My father usually left me to fend for myself - not because he didn't care about my safety or well-being, but because he believed I could handle whatever challenges came my way. Sometimes I misinterpreted his hands-off approach as not caring, but most of the time, I understood that his intent was to foster my independence.

Even so, I recall a few occasions - once as a child, once as a teen, and once as an adult - where he came to my defense in such a way that I was amazed.

Growing up, we rarely took vacations by plane. Instead, we drove (in a then-luxurious Lincoln Continental, back in the days when seatbelts were not mandatory and kids could lie down in the backseat or wedge themselves between the front seat and the back seat) to Cape Cod, to upstate New York, to the DC metro area. And as an act of both mercy and self-preservation, my parents always made sure that we stayed at hotels that had pools (which wasn't necessarily a standard amenity back in the 1980s).

Upon arriving at one hotel on one particular trip, we discovered that the pool was closed already. And while my brother and I were still happy to look forward to Happy Meals and cable TV, my father was livid. He lit into the manager on duty as we stood next to him and gaped. I don't remember if we got to go swimming or not; I just remember that my daddy was ready to tear that man a new you-know-what for depriving his kids of swim time.

As a pre-teen and teen, I took harp lessons and played in an ensemble. My teacher was a single woman in her forties, a survivor of Hodgkin's, and not exactly the most approachable person I'd ever met. Put bluntly, she scared the living daylights out of me. I once lost one of her music books while at a contest, and I still remember the utter dread I felt at the prospect of confessing my carelessness. She liked adults, not kids.

For years, my father observed how I quaked when I was around her, and at some point - provoked by what, I don't know - he laid into her. I don't know exactly what he said, but it absolutely took her down a peg or two - something I'd never expected to see.

Finally, the most recent time he jumped to my defense was during the planning of Kyle's and my wedding. I don't really even want to bring up this topic, because more than anything I want it to be laid to rest once and for all, but it was the first time in a long time that I'd been present to hear him defend me. Unfortunately, he was defending me to my future father-in-law, dropping more F-bombs than I'd ever heard him use before, and all I could think about was how in the world these two men could possibly stand to be in the same room together only a month or so later.

(They did. And it hasn't happened again since. Which is fine. As long as nobody brings up this topic ever AGAIN.)

Fathers notoriously get the shaft where it comes to the world's perception of how they feel about their kids. Sure, they love them - but rarely do they get credit for defending them just as vehemently (if not more so) than mothers do.

This Father's Day, recall the times that your father really and truly went to bat for you. And then tell him thank you for loving you so much.

This is a post written by my Blog Exchange partner for this month, Julie from mothergoosemouse. The assignment this month was to share a post about Dads/Fathers. You can find me over at her blog writing about the Big Giraffe. Please make Julie feel welcome.


In addition to authoring mothergoosemouse, Julie is mother to one little girl who is destined to become a lawyer, mother to another little girl who speaks her own language when she isn't screaming loud enough to shatter glass, and wife to a man who can drink his weight in Natty Light. All she really wants in life is a clean kitchen floor.

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posted by Alex Elliot @ 11:01 PM   6 comments
6 Comments:

  • At 6/05/2007 1:38 AM, Blogger Jenn in Holland said…

    Dads indeed go to bat for their brood. These are nice reflections of this big man in your life. How fun to find you here at Alex's place this morning!

     

  • At 6/05/2007 10:25 AM, Blogger Mayberry said…

    Whoa, I'm getting hives just thinking about that pre-wedding fight. Yikes!

     

  • At 6/05/2007 12:39 PM, Anonymous Laura Lohr said…

    Wonderful post! I think it is beautiful when daddies stand up for their daughters. You painted a wonderful picture of your dad!

     

  • At 6/05/2007 2:15 PM, Blogger soccer mom in denial said…

    You haven't seen devotion until you hand your dad his grandchild. My father goes beyond devotion with my kids. Particularly my daughter. She walks on water in his eyes.

     

  • At 6/05/2007 5:34 PM, Blogger Suzanne said…

    It's so true! I often think that society places so much emphasis on mother-child bonds (which are obviously important) that we almost deny how important father-child bonds are in helping kids develop. Kids need strong adults who love them, regardless of gender!

     

  • At 6/06/2007 2:28 AM, Blogger Lara said…

    oh, it's so true. i remember some times when my dad did that for me, and it always surprised me. i can't thank him the way i'd like to, but it's nice to remember him fondly. :)

     
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Name:Alex Elliot
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About Me:Professional Mom of two cats, a dog, an ant farm, and oh yeah...two boys: a 6 year old and a 3 year old. Also found in my house is my husband who is known on this blog as The Big Giraffe.
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