Things I Wish My Father Taught Me
Today is my father’s birthday. Usually this a day I mark on my calendar just so I can ignore it on purpose. It’s been my passive-aggressive way of giving my pops a big middle finger so when he calls a few days or weeks later to say I missed his birthday, I could reply, “Yeah, I know.” Well, that was then this is now.
By time most of you read this I will have called my father to wish him a happy born day. Whether or not he picks up is another story, as he’s infamous for not answering the phone even when he’s home. Nonetheless, I’ve decided to call this year because even though I confronted my father and got some answers, I realized that I wasn’t doing my part to mend the fractured relationship.
The last time I called my father was a few weeks ago when my half-sister reached out to inform me that our paternal grandmother had lost her leg and he wasn’t taking it well. I rang my pops at all his numbers, but as usual I got no answer or response. About a week and a half later he called to say that he’d been in the hospital for the past 10 days because of complications with his diabetes. I won’t bore you guys any further with drawn out details and just get to the point.
Although my father and I will probably never have a dad and son relationship (NOTE: just because you’re a father doesn’t make you a dad) I’m no longer closed off to the idea of us having some sort of cordial relationship. So this post isn’t about bashing him for not being there, it’s just me reflecting on how different things could have been if he was around for my formative years.
I wish my father taught me how to…
…FIGHT
I’ve had only three fights in my life and none of them have lasted over five minutes. The first was in 8th grade and the other two were a couple years ago with my best friend—including THIS drawn out story where I almost broke my own hand. There was no skill or precision involved in any of those scuffles. It was just hit or be hit free-for-all. Since I was a quiet kid that never hung out in the streets, I never learned how to shoot a fair one with my fists. I don’t know how to bob, weave and knock a nucka out. Sure I’m too old to be having fights, but I always wished I had that man in my life to teach me how to defend myself, my woman and my family with my knuckles. Don’t get it twisted, though, I ain’t no punk. My boxing technique may look bad but I’ll always go out swinging.
…TIE A TIE
At 32 years of age I don’t know how to tie a tie. Actually that’s a lie, there was a time when I did but without continuous practice I forgot. My uncle actually taught me when I was about 13. He was getting married and bought me my first grown-man suit, silk boxers (mad uncomfortable wedgies) and a tie. Although I had to wear a tie everyday as part of my eight years of catholic school, it was always a clip-on or one with a hook and loop in the back. So my uncle stepped up and showed me how to tie one on my own and I practiced all the time ’til I got it right, but working in the music/entertainment industry I rarely had reason to wear one. In fact, the last time I tied a tie myself was for my first job interview after college back in 1998. When my best friend got married a few years ago, I felt embarrassed that he had to tie my tie for me. Other times it’s often a female that ties my tie (How come more girls know how to tie ties than guys?) Maybe if my father was around I would have had a constant teacher.
…RIDE A BIKE
Most times when you think of classic images of childhood thoughts of a father pushing his kid on a bike come to mind. I never had that experience. Prior to his death when I was 10, my grandfather filled that void by helping me graduate from tricycles to training wheels to two big wheels, but at the end I was forced to pedal alone. The last time I really rode a bike was when I was about 12 and I crashed into my little cousin Donna. My mother packed up my bike and I never road again. They say you never forget how to ride a bike, but what happens when you never really learned? I hopped on my boy’s bike a couple months ago and promptly crashed into a parked car. I swear the bike seat was too high and threw me off balance, or maybe I just needed that reassuring hand of guidance from my father to steady my ride.
…DANCE
Give me a few drinks and a steady rhythm and I’ll two-step the night away, but when it comes to the art of dance I’ve had no teacher. There was never that man in my life to show me how to slow dance. I have no idea how to move my feet or hold my wife’s hand and lead her on the dance floor on our wedding day. I’m sure it’s a pretty simple movement that I’ll pick up eventually, but it’d be a lot easier if my father had taught me.
…USE CHOPSTICKS
If you read my “Dating Tips For the Recession” post, you’ll know that I tend to eat at a lot of Asian restaurants, but I still haven’t mastered the standard eating utensil that is the chopstick. I’ve been out on numerous occasions and seen dates or friends pick up a pair and chow down, while I struggle to get a few kernels of rice to my mouth before buckling and asking for a fork. I'm not even sure if my father knows how to use chopsticks, but I’d like to assume he does and would have taught me how.
…SWIM
If you’ve been following this blog for a minute you’ll know that I’ve had a long bout with hydrophobia. For the past year and a half, though, I’ve been working on it by taking swimming lessons. I even went snorkeling and parasailing in Aruba last year. So I’ve definitely made some headway on learning how to swim, but perhaps if papa was in the picture he could have taught his little boy how to float instead of sink.
…HOW TO SHAVE
Shaving is the essence of manhood. Every teenaged boy stares in the mirror for hours when his first whiskers break through the surface of his face. There’s no greater joy for a man-child to say that he’s shaving. I would always watch movies and TV shows with the men lathering up the shaving cream and taking the blade to their face to get that ultra close cut, but since I never had anyone to show me how to do it properly I relied on the barber or just resorted to using my clippers for a quick lineup when I had locks. There was one time I actually tried to use a razor and cut my face up so bad I never dared try it again. So I was always left wondering how different my homemade lineups would have been had my father been there to teach me.
…BE A MAN
The hardest thing about not having my father in the picture is not having a constant model for what a man should be—good or bad. Luckily, I had my grandfather around for the first quarter of my life, but once he passed away I was left to figure out things on my own. Of course my mother did her best to instill in me proper manners and ambition, but there’ll always be things that only man can teach a boy—namely how to be a man. For what it’s worth, though, I think my mom did a decent job all things considered. Yeah, I might have a little extra baggage and may have not learned everything I could have had my father been around, but I think I turned out alright regardless.
For those that can relate, how different do you think like would have been had your father been in the picture? Are there things that you wish he could have been there to teach you? If so, what? Was there any other male figures that stepped up and guided you during your formative years? If not, how did you learn how to be a man or woman without your father? For those that had their father around, did I list things that you tend to take for granted?
Speak your piece…
UPDATE
Courtesy of Wam Bam, thanx.
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