It dawned on me the other day that I was Lainey’s age when my parents separated and not long after that, estranged from my father for many years. Though I don’t remember it all perfectly, what I remember paired with what I know about 8-year-olds and what I love about my dad tells me enough to know that the loss was devastating. We don’t talk a lot about those years very much other than some pretty funny surface jokes to dodge the pain and my dad’s forgive-all blanket: “You were young. You didn’t know.” But they exist—a murky lake, nearly dried up but never gone—in our past.
Somehow a very broken puzzle got glued back together many years later and our family–unique in bearing many fathers–loves each other and can freely celebrate holidays and graduations and birthdays all together in one room, understanding that these are the moments that matter most–love, family, being here for each other. “By the grace of God, you’re not all messed up,” I’ve heard. I’d beg to differ two things. A: we are a little messed up, but we don’t mind. And B: This enchanting grace of God didn’t pick us over other deserving broken families who are still broken and hurting, and it didn’t magically bring us all back together. We worked for that–all of us–with a lot of forgiveness and acceptance and choices to dig through the hard stuff, compromise, listen, show up. We’re still working.
I missed the fatherhood years Lainey’s heading into now, the vision of her falling asleep in Brett’s lap simply the preface of the many chapters to come of one of the most precious relationships there is–a child and her father. But the gap those years left open has been filled because we picked up where we left off. And this Father’s Day, I feel so incredibly grateful to know both the love of my own father and to witness the love my children have for theirs. From both of these relationships, I’ve learned a few things about strong fathers.
1. Strong fathers join you on the dance floor.
I went home to Michigan late last year to attend an event with my family, honoring my dad for his work. He broke his leg later that night–although he didn’t know it then–and ignored the throbbing pain to answer a call from us to dance. I now recall him initially turning us down, mentioning his leg hurt, but his kids were out there hamming it up, and he couldn’t let them embarrass themselves without him. So he joined us, hobbling out to the floor, limping through the songs, and well after most of the guests left the event, there we were–shaking it up, singing the wrong words, breaking it down, broken leg be damned.
And that might be what I love most about my dad as a father–he will always join us on the dance floor–literally, figuratively, passionately. In fact, many of our favorite stories about my dad have to do with a dance floor, one in particular involving his arms stretched out, flapping–a move we have trademarked as “The Eagle.” He’s turned our living rooms into disco clubs, pulled my kids out of bad moods with The Hustle across my kitchen tile, waltzed babies to sleep, evoked laughter with the cha-cha in the aisles of Costco and shown up continually, arms outstretched, ready to dance–this winter with a leg boot and a scooter thanks to three kids who danced his fracture into a 3-month injury. But that’s what strong fathers do. They answer your call. They show up for the dance.
2. Strong fathers play.
Next week, Brett and I will celebrate nine years of marriage, each rich but none of them easy. The most challenging moments of our marriage–the times we needed more communication, more love, more understanding, more recognition–have always been held together for me by watching him play with our children. Love and intimacy cannot survive alone on fathers playing, but watching the man you love act out a Barbie scene with your little girl can certainly strengthen the threadbare parts and remind you what you’re fighting for. Every day I am witness to this beautiful thing for which we fight. And I’m thankful for the way he makes the stuffed animals talk in funny voices and pushes little cars along the grout lines in our tile with motor noises to match. When we get caught up in the marriage game of pointing out who does more (of course, we are the only couple who has that argument ;o), I will always remember to let him know I appreciate how he plays. Because that’s what strong fathers do.
3. Strong fathers show vulnerability.
Real men cry. Real men admit their weaknesses. Real men don’t pretend they’re not emotional and know that their kids don’t expect them to be perfect–they only want them to show up. Real men use big strong words like “I love you” and “I’m proud of you” and they say them…a lot. Real men don’t get hung up on the past but focus on the present. How can I love good today?
So here’s to you, dads. To the criers, the dancers, the lay-on-the-floor-and-players. To the husbands, stepdads, father-in-laws, grandpas, biological dads, adopted dads. To the strong ones. Thank you for showing up. No matter what the past holds, what matters most is “How can I love good today?” We need you. We love you. We see you and appreciate you. Happy Father’s Day.
Some favorite favorite fatherhood photos in the header slideshow today. xo
And a special hug this weekend to those who have lost their fathers. May the best memories shine.
Amen, here is to strong fathers, which includes my dad and my husband.
Amen to thank you for strong fathers, which includes my father and my husband.
may i kindly suggest you replace “real dads” with “bio dads”, or something else that won’t make any non-bio dad feel less than? 🙂
Such a thoughtful suggestion to a careless overlook. Thank you! And a sensitivity I’ll remember.
Kelle, I love all of the header photos & the men who inhabit your life. Your kids are very fortunate to have such loving men in their lives. I grew up with an amazing father, the best uncles, a fun brother, awesome grandfathers & now, in addition to my two perfect nieces, we dote on two of the most spectacular nephews the world has ever known. Needless to say, we celebrate the men in our lives as well & will do so in the best possible way tomorrow. Happy Father’s Day!!!
Kelle, I´ve been following your blog for over a yearm and really I can say that you have help me grow as a mom, you have inspired me to be better so so many times… so thank you for that! And on this post, well, I am reading your book now and I´ve fallen in love with your dad! he is really really awesome!
I love these photos and your dad sounds like one tough cookie, getting out on the dance floor with a broken leg.
I need your help, can you spread Finn’s story for me.
A 5 month old boy born with a heart condition had open heart surgery in April, he had complications and has been in the hospital ever since. Read more on facebook at Prayers for Finn
He really is the happiest baby & has won my heart.
I have put together an instagram auction to help raise money for his medical bills. @prayersforfinnauction #prayersforfinn
please post a photo of Finn and tag @prayersforfinnauction so that your readers can check it out. It will be June 25
AMAZING shops have come together in donations and now as bloggers its our responsibility to spread his awareness.
Thank you so much
xo, Michelle
http://rosetolife.com
I love all the photos of the fathers and grandfathers in your header! I love that Brett plays with his kids (even Barbie’s). Hats off to all the fathers who take their role seriously and not only provide but are actually involved in their children’s lives.
Hi Kelle, I’ve loved this post, thank you and thank you for the hug!
Loved this piece you have written about fathers on many different angles and perspectives. You keep it real and your blog is so encouraging. Sometimes when parenthood is just plain right exhausting, I find myself reading through your blog and your articles paint such a beautiful picture. Which gives me new strengths for the day and passion to do it again and again because those memories are just too precious.m
So thank you for that:)
Brett seems like such a great dad! The kids are blessed to have him as their father!
You know what was outstanding in this post… how you handled a suggestion about changing a word… with such grace it made me wonder why so many others argue, spout nastiness and all on social media. Thank you Kelle
What a great piece, here’s to great fathers and also to daughters and wives who love them.
Thank you for this post Kelle!! You have a beautiful family:)
Oh my gosh, making me tear up on a Monday morning! This is beautiful…I have so many dear friends whose experiences of fatherhood have broken them and left them longing for more. I pray that my husband will love our future littles and be a strong father like you describe here!
“We worked for that–all of us–with a lot of forgiveness and acceptance and choices to dig through the hard stuff, compromise, listen, show up. We’re still working.” That is truth. So beautiful to work through the brokenness instead of wallow and pity and blame. And it is WORK and I am so glad you pointed that out. Worthwhile? YES! Easy? No. And one person can’t do it all. But one person can get it started. Grace, forgiveness, and love will guide it. <3
Kelle – I’m sure you had quite a time picking the “fatherly” pictures for your header, and you got some great ones! One of my favorites that I’ll always remember (and I can’t even recall if Lainey was in it for sure, but I think she was in some form) is one at the airport when Brett had just gotten home from a trip and was greeting her with a smile of pure joy on his face!
I know exactly which one you’re talking about. And one of my favorites too because I remember exactly how we felt when that was taken.
Thanks, I especially needed to hear this today. We moved my Dad (88 years old) to Assisted Living two days ago. His tears have been coming more regularly now, and my Mom tends to chastise him. I have been gently reminding her (she’s more of the “brush it off and move on” mentality), that there is nothing wrong with him showing his emotions. He seemed to calm after hearing me say that. I get it from him…and am glad I taught my sons that it’s okay to cry.
Kelle –
This is exactly what I needed to read today. We are knee deep in raising our littles and sometimes I forget how grateful I am for all that he does. Instead I focus on the unimportant an nitpick. Not healthy at all. We have a very modern marriage and I am awful at remembering how different our marriage is than those just 20 years previous. We share responsibilities. My husband hits each and every one of your points with a gigantic high five! He’s awesome!
Also, I lost my sweet daddy on Valentine’s Day, 2014. The sadness is still so raw. Thank you for remembering that this day is mixed with emotion for so many.
XOXO,
Apryl