Anyone who tells you fatherhood is the greatest thing that can happen to you, they are understating it. (Mike Myers)
I watch my sons interact with their children. Both the games and the more serious moments. And I see men who are creating relationships, not simply setting rules from an I’m-boss position. Sure, my sons set limits. But they also let Katie, Rebe, and Ella know it is okay to reach for stars. The girls are worth whatever effort it takes.
In addition, my younger son helps with the care of his fiancé’s son. When Dakota was asked what he wanted to be when he grew up, he answered, “A daddy like Steve.”
What more could I want?
And yet my sons give to me as well.
A few days ago I called Greg, my firstborn son, when I was in a difficult and frightening situation. I was away at a writers’ retreat and my wallet was not in my backpack. I knew my husband was swimming at the Y. I asked Greg, “Are you home?”
He didn’t say yes or no. He answered, “What do you need?” And while he had very little time he stopped at my house and searched my couch cushions for the missing wallet. And then he called my cell and let me know he had not found it, but would help in whatever way he could.
I figured out where I had left my wallet with all its essential interior parts later—after stopping credit cards and replacing my driver’s license. All my money and identification cards were locked in a restaurant safe. And I sent Greg a voice message to let him know all was well. However, he must not have received the message yet when I called about something less important. He answered his cell even though he was busy at work. Of course I told him we could finish the secondary business later. And we did, while making plans for Father’s Day weekend and for the next day Grandpa and I have with his girls—our grandchildren.
Once again, what more could I want?
Not that long ago I called Steve in a state of near panic. I’d gotten lost on my way to a funeral. And never made it to the service. My husband was out of town at the time. While I knew my friends would forgive my absence, I had difficulty forgiving me. Steve, his girlfriend Cecelia, (also my good buddy) Ella, and Dakota seemed to know exactly what to say—and exactly when to simply listen. Yes, even the children seemed to be aware on some level.
When I was able to let my husband know about the incident, Jay offered me the same kind of listening ear and positive feedback.
This is a blog, not a full-length memoir. I can’t tell every story.
I am blessed. What more could I want?
Then, of course, there is the humor the men in my life provide. All three of my Petersen men know how to enhance a celebration or lighten a sad situation. Greg and Steve have a mock rivalry going about who is the good son. They have even signed cards or notes that way. It’s the family inside joke.
Happy Fathers’ Day, Jay, Greg, and Steve. My mantra of gratitude repeats: What more could I want?
terrypetersen 