thoughts on Fathers

Reading http://goodmenproject.com/featured-content/the-last-late-show-with-my-father/
got me to thinking about my own father.
I never knew him. He was reportedly older than my mother, and if history is any evidence, quite a gent.

I found two pictures of him, one taken in Skagway when he was quite young, and one taken when grown, that show a bit of a dandy.

He died when I was about 18 months old, and so I never conciously was aware of him.

This is something that has always nibbled away at the back of my mind, and is one of the reasons I've been rather sporatically poking at my geneology. My sister-in-law is rather a genius at it and has been a great help.

In the last few years I've watched my wife lose her father to dimentia, so he's gone but still here. Dosen't know who she is, or any one is other than someone that he likes, maybe.
She's dealt with it very well, and I admire her for it, I'm not sure I would be able to cope as well.

I grew up in a house hold of women. My mother, my great aunt, and my grandmother. My grandfather out lived my grandmother, but for many of my early years he was away in Kenniwick, Wa. working on the Hanford site. When he was home and in my life I remember him as a hugely important person to me, and I loved him very much. It was Grandpa Walter that took me to the Portland Beavers ball games, Walter that took me to the Labor Temple, grandpa that I watched Portland Wrestling with late on Friday nights. Grandpa would sit next to the radio in the front room and listen to the news, and when he got tired of Grandma's talking, he'd take out his hearing aid. She'd go on for a while and after a bit you'd hear from the kitchen..."Walter! did you turn off you hearing aid?" always good for a snicker.

But it was mostly from grandpa I learned what being a good man was supposed to mean, that and radio. T.V. didn't come into my life till late.

When I was about seven Mom met and later married the man I would always think of as my father, even though I knew he was my "Step" father.
Herb was a very good man. A good provider, a good listener, even if you didn't know it, and he loved my Mother very much. He died a few years ago, and I miss him.
I learned how to be a father from him.

I don't know if I was a good father to my daughters, I've always suspected not, but I wasn't able to do much more than I did, I don't expect to ever know for sure, but then I also suspect we all fail as parents, and it's just dumb luck if we get anything right.

How do we prepare our children for the world? I'm damned if I know, but if we can teach resilliance, an ability to really see what is in front of us, and the tools to ferrett out Truth in most situations I hope that's enough.
Curiosity(that's not spelled right, but get over it) is natural and so don't kill it.
How to be a caring self-sufficent human being.
Not just how to be a good man, but a good HUman.