Being a role model father

This is a topic that can be debated far and wide, as each person (women included) can and will have their belief as to what a “Role Model” father is.  This is just like the rest of my writings is my perspective and why I feel the way I do.

When I first became a father 8 years ago it was the best feeling I ever had.  My first born was a son to follow in my foot steps, for me to mold into what I couldn’t be. I quickly learned that I was actually in over my head and didn’t (and still don’t) have a real clue as to what I’m doing even after having our 3rd child.  You see growing up I never had a “father” to teach me how a father is supposed to be.  Now granted I had my grandpa till he passed when I was 10, and my uncles, but my father was never a part of my life, at least I didn’t think so.  As a child growing up I was told that my father before my birth went off to war and never returned.  This story changed somewhat from time to time when I would bring it up, I actually asked all of my family grandma, grandpa, aunts, uncles, and all pretty much had the same story, but slightly different.  Even as young as I was, I knew there was more to the story but I went along with it and made no fuss, as I was well cared for being raised by my mom, grandma, and grandpa.  It was many years later that A light bulb went off in my head, about my father and at that moment it all made sense.  I confronted mom about it, asking if this certain person was in fact my real father.  The look on her face was all I needed to tell me, but at first she denied it and later finally told me that I was correct.  This person was a very close family friend that mom and her brothers were friends with since kids.  He was married with kids of his own and was kind of a “name” where we lived.  So everyone went along with the story basically to protect him, not thinking the real person that was affected in this was actually me.  There is a pain there knowing that I grew up basically playing with my brother that I never even knew was my brother.  I think that not once did I ever hear good job son, I’m proud of you son, or even I love you son from my dad and he was right there.  After I knew the truth i wanted so bad to stop in and see him with my kids, just to see what his reaction would be.  My hometown is about 6 hours away and wasn’t easy to just “stop in”.   We were in town a few years ago and driving down the street I caught a glance of a guy backing in a truck.  I knew immediately that it was his son. I did a u turn in the road and stopped, as I climbed out of the vehicle I hear “BRAD” real loud.  We chatted for a couple minutes of small talk, and I asked. How is your dad?  He said that he had been sick and dont spend much time at the shop anymore.  I said I should stop some time and say hi.  He looked at me with a grin and said ” Brad I think he would definitely like that”  The way he said it and the look he had made me and still makes me believe that he knows I’m his brother.  After that I never got the courage to stop my and see him, and a couple years ago I was told that his health had taken a drastic turn and died a couple days later.  I regret not stopping when I had the chance, as now I am left with this eminence void.  Did he actually know? or did he not know?  I will now never know the truth.

As far as the perfect father, I personally don’t know what that consists of.  The only think I do know is I don’t want to be a father to my kids anymore.  I want to be a DAD!

The pic for this post is of my son, taken several years ago. He was helping dad make some signs.

Apparel & More from DAD247x3