This evening I will board a Delta flight and, yes, I’m going home. This time it’s to a small town in Indiana.
Sometimes people ask me about my small town in Indiana, “what’s it like”, and I say it’s like Mooi River in the 1960s but without the mooi and without the river and without a mountain or ocean within several hundred miles.
This said, it’s home.
My one son is there, the dogs will be excited to see me, and the mayor will wave and ask me where I’ve been as he stops at the four-way stop and sees me walking Maggie and Duke.
I know that I’ll see Rick from Rick’s Brakes and Tires (yes, that’s how it’s spelled) at church on Sunday and he’ll tell me it’s time, referring to an oil-change on my car.
A few interested friends will ask me about my trip home and I’ll tell them about the beauty of the Western Cape and how I loved buying my triplet great nephews and neice a late afternoon Wimpy lunch after a shopping spree for books at Exclusive Books in La Lucia.
My great niece, who recently turned 21, and my sister – the same great niece’s grandmother – are chatting within my hearing as they have done most of the day, as only my sister and any one of her many, many grandchildren can do.
Having covered most topics under the sun — updates on family around the world, the economy, vegan muffin recipes, snippets of friendships old and new, the benefits of infusion face-masks and an invitation for me to try one — the conversation transitions to recent flights.
Amy reports sitting on a plane next to an “old man” who was “so nice” and who told her all about his adult children and found her to be so interesting.
“He seemed like such a nice dad,” she reflects.
My sister listens attentively, as she is prone to do, and recalls one of her many flights where she was seated next to “some nice, very young man.”
I glance up from my computer and ask about the approximate ages of these two men, the one “old guy” and the other who is “very young.”
“In his forties,” my niece says, “he was already in his forties.”
Grandma thinks a little and predicts her “young guy” was at least in his mid-forties.
“It’s all about perspective,” I add, careful to hold my 68 year-old tongue.
I attended a celebration of life held in honor of a former colleague and treasured friend. Among several outstanding speakers, it was her son’s content and delivery which caught my attention. He wrapped his mourning in the sheer delight remembering his mother. With his permission here are a few nuggets from which I think all parents can learn:
“If I close my eyes and think of my mom, I’m usually met with the same image. She’s standing in an apron, while her white hair is littered with varying streaks of color because she has scratched her head with the wrong end of a paintbrush. She is laughing, always laughing, even though there’s probably a pot of rice burning in the background in the kitchen somewhere.”
“For my mom life was meant to be lived and lived well. That was easy for her because she knew Joy. I think she knew joy because at some stage before I was born she traded her sorrows for joy. She made a pact with joy, and no one could take it from her.”
“We were pushed to think big and be brave; we were never mollycoddled.”
“My mom lived without fear because at some point before I was born, she traded fear for the pursuit of wisdom, knowledge, and true understanding.”
Run interference for your child as much as possible and so reduce all possibilities that your child may learn that actions and inaction have natural consequences.
Get (aggressively) in the face of every teacher, coach, referee your child ever encounters (and do it as soon as possible) so your child and all officials know who is really in charge.
Give your child the impression that teachers, coaches, school authorities, even the police are all idiots so they will always feel above the rules and the law.
Ignore common civility so your child will learn to behave similarly.
Praise your child excessively – and suggest others do the same – especially where little or no skill, talent, or meeting a challenge is necessary so the pain of having to learn something new or difficult may be delayed, even avoided.
Blame the teacher or the school if your child doesn’t do homework. Belittle the way it’s assigned, its timing, the lack of access to resources and its relevance – but never, never suggest the child’s homework is the child’s responsibility.
Every time your child (starting when they’re babies) is unsettled or unhappy, put a screen in his or her way to settle things down.
When my sons reveal certain physical aptitudes, expose some odd humorous bent, display a uniquely characteristic nod of the head, tilt of the jaw, it crosses my mind that I may be “seeing” their biological dads, glimpsing some semblance of the men who fathered them.
I do think about these two men — especially on Father’s Day — and hope they thriving wherever they are. In ways that my sons may also ponder, although I have not asked them, I wonder who these men are. I consider if each even knows about the baby he fathered or, if he does, thinks about, grieves about what he has sacrificed, missed, or lost.
I would jump at the opportunity of meeting my sons’ biological fathers. I’d go to such an event alone and find an opportunity to express my thanks for their vast contribution to our lives. I’d try to suss out how they’re each doing in hopes of suggesting an opportunity for them to meet our sons. I’d offer my sons the opportunity to choose his path toward connection with his biological father and hope that each would embrace such a connection and enjoy the long term potential and benefits from such an opportunity.
You were “easy” babies, fabulous toddlers and terrific young children.
You were hilarious preteens and mostly cooperative teenagers.
Now, you are productive, employed, adults.
I have written to readers far and wide – often to severe resistance – my belief that parenting ends.
While I will always be your dad, you may have recognized that some years ago, wise or unwise on my part, believing I had imparted all that was necessary, I “pulled back” and gradually stopped parenting each of you. You have been making almost all your own decisions for years and have both been rather good at it.
Now, we are three men (mostly) enjoying our shared relationships and one of us happens to also be your dad.
As far as possible I will be available for you. I probably will “jump in” if I discern a dire need to do so, but generally I will resist any urge to impose my need to parent upon you.
I love you, I will seek your highest good and love all whom you love. Know this: each of you in your own way saved my life. You have made this dad really appreciate Father’s Day and I thank you.
Given that it is Father’s Day this Sunday I have to tell you my father was a David who faced his share of Goliaths. He had many come his way over many years.
I’d suggest being fatherless from birth was a Goliath of sorts.
Then, the Second World War must have been like a Goliath to much of the world and to a 15-year-old boy, my dad, going off to war before needing to shave.
Entering the Indian Ocean off a burning and sinking destroyer to find safety was certainly a frightening encounter. Floating in the ocean, protected from sharks by the oil that surfaced from the sinking ship hardly sounds like a safe option.
Floating for hours – about 30 in all – in oil and debri and being fried in the day in the scorching sun and freezing in the night while hoping for rescue may indeed qualify as a Goliath.
Dad said the men in the water sang “Nearer My God To Thee” and “From Sinking Sands He Lifted Me” and “Abide With Me” a lot.
But, he did it. He did it all.
My dad was a long way from perfect but I have noticed he was much more imperfect when I was younger than he is now.
I hope you are learning a lot and seeing a lot and enjoying what we are doing together.
My goals are very simple.
I will consider myself as having done a good job if:
You live more powerfully from today than you did before by making very simple decisions to speak up more than you did before and to clarify yourself more than you did before. Self-advocacy comes with immediate feedback and rewards. Keep in mind that not everyone you know will applaud your renewed or “discovered” voice, especially those who have benefitted from your choice (known or unknown) to function at lower levels. If you are stronger on some days than you are on others do not despair, you are human. No one is highly functional everyday although we can by practice and newly formed habits improve our averages.
I have given you an overview of a subject I love and around which I have built my life. There is far more to Family Therapy and to most topics of mental health and counseling that can be covered in a week. Those of you who enjoy this particular approach to mental health and counseling will find yourselves motivated to go deeper. You’ll immerse yourselves into the readily available vast array of books and reading on this and many related topics. Try to read as much Roberta Gilbert as you can. Robeta has several books available and two that come to mind are Extraordinary Relationships and Extraordinary Leadership.
Today we will finish the 8 principles and then look at some disguised but real client family stories.
We will review teaching with an overview of The Formidable Triangle.
Your DAY 3 challenges:
How is your Backbone? If it were a tank of courage is it running on empty or full?
You were a creative child – what have you done with that God-given capacity?
How is your Voice and are you using it for its intended purpose?
To be human — like it or not — is to be endowed with power and influence.
What will you do with yours?
Will you use it to enhance the lives of others or feather your own nest?
May we all choose a path that empowers those who could do with respectful assistance and, for ourselves, know when enough is enough.
Will you over-power others or seek equality and mutuality in all your relationships and all your dealings?
May you and I seek only to love knowing that authentic love seeks to exercise power over no one.
Will you reduce your size and influence and consider yourself a victim so as not to feel responsible for the power that comes with your humanity?
May we develop our skills and giftings and take responsibility for the talents with which we have been endowed.
Will you relate to all as fellow humans on a journey toward fulfillment and meaningfulness, all of whom deserve respect and recognition?
May you and I develop willingness and the capacity to offer our highest regard for all, especially those who for whatever reason are unable to return anything to us at all,
Will you and I accumulate more and more assets and more and more symbols of wealth and success?
Rather, may we have the discernment to know when enough is enough.
There are a few ways I can tell when an unwell client is gathering strength and becoming well……
He begins to speak up. He resists “falling into line” and acquiescing to others when he’d previously kept his mouth shut and conformed to the expectations of others.
She starts to think things through. She turns consequences and ramifications over in her mind before agreeing with or accepting my suggestions. She trusts her own insights more than she trusts her therapist’s insights about her.
He develops a growing “bird’s eye view” of his life. He begins to see with greater and greater clarity how seemingly “small” decisions of repeated healthy choices rapidly usher in larger positive outcomes than can be anticipated.
She begins to enjoy the rewards of making difficult but healthy choices. She wakes up most days with growing anticipation despite her substantial challenges.
He sees and feels more and more courageous and confident about his own life even while appreciating the humility required of those who desire to live meaningful lives.
She expresses thanks and appreciation for her life despite its struggles and anticipates being an agent of hope to others with similar challenges.
difficultrelationships.com 