One of my son’s friends hit with a curve ball earlier this week. He dropped that his dad in in the hospital dying. Pretty heavy stuff from an 8th grader. But it gets more brutal. He’s struggling with whether to go see him. You see, the father in question is the proverbial absentee parent. As the boy put it, “why should I care? He wasn’t there for me when I needed him.” Which makes sense to me, and breaks my heart. Though my father and I don’t have a perfect relationship, he’s been there when I needed him. I can’t begin to relate to this situation.
Makes me think of my relationship with my son. I’ve been very deliberate in being present. Showing up at school events, choir concerts, we do taekwondo together…I didn’t want to be like a friend of mine who, as his kids were nearing high-school graduation realized he didn’t know them. With that, years ago, when doing some Franklin-Covey exercises, one that stuck was the question “what do you want people to say about you at your funeral?” I want them to say “he was there”, and that I cared. All else is secondary.
So, the boy’s father and I have very different world-views. Or, at least, I made certain that my actions aligned with my values. Hard to really say anything about this father, since I don’t know any other details about him. But my response gives insight into me, my values and aspirations. And imperfect though my relationships are, I’m good with things, with my life, my community. I feel blessed.
