Fathers, Part 2

On June 21 we’ll celebrate Father’s Day and if you’ve been following this blog for even a short while, you know what comes next:

Have you written something about your father for your memoir? Many people will.

Whether you knew your father or not, whether he was a good father or not, he influenced who you are today.  

Your kids, grands, and great-grands need to know about him.

If you haven’t written about your father, but want to, you might be stuck.

Sometimes it’s not easy to write about fathers.

With that in mind, last week I gave you links to several writings about fathers. (If you missed them, click on the above link to read the work of Mick Silva, Steve Moakler, Cecil Murphey, Stacy Sanchez, and Claire McCarthy.)

This week I offer you more inspiration. I hope and pray you’ll find these helpful as you write your memoir.

“When I was a boy of fourteen,

my father was so ignorant

I could hardly stand to have the old man around.

But when I got to be twenty-one,

I was astonished at

how much the old man had learned

in seven years.”

Mark Twain

“I wondered what my father had looked like that day,

how he had felt,

marrying the lively and beautiful girl who was my mother.

I wondered what his life was like now.

Did he ever think of us?

I wanted to hate him, but I couldn’t;

I didn’t know him well enough.

Instead, I wondered about him occasionally,

with a confused kind of longing.

There was a place inside me carved out for him;

I didn’t want it to be there, but it was.

Once, at the hardware store,

Brooks had shown me how to use a drill.

I’d made a tiny hole that went deep.

The place for my father was like that.”

Elizabeth Berg, We Are All Welcome Here

“Sometimes I think my papa was an accordion.

When he looks at me and smiles and breathes,

I hear the notes.”

Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Dorothy Brotherton writes in her poignant post:

“Young dads were useful to help us learn to tie our shoes and ride a bike and build a tree house.

“Middle-age dads were handy for borrowing the car keys and credit cards, and perhaps they helped us with a house down-payment. As a dad grows older he may hold onto the ability to give us sage advice.

“But when dads get old, really old, when they are diminished both physically and mentally, what are they for then?

“… That’s the question we must face. None of us wants to outlive our usefulness.

“… So what should we do with an old father?....”  (Click on Honoring our Aging Fathers to read Dorothy Brotherton’s post. It’s a must-read.)

Some of us cherish memories of our fathers.

Others might have only painful memories.

Some memories are mixed. Bittersweet.

What stories do you need to write about your father?

What will your kids and grandkids and great-grands

miss if you don’t write those stories?

Memories of fathers

Father’s Day is coming up and some of you have stories—yet unwritten—about your father.

Was he a praying man? A humorous guy? Tenacious? Lazy? An athlete? Gentle? Gruff? Charming? Tall? Short? Educated? A charmer? An intellectual?

What sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and textures come to mind when you think of your father?

What lessons did he teach you? Maybe you learned from his good example, or maybe you learned by watching him mess up.

Do you have blue eyes like your father? Do you have his curly hair? His artistic talents? Maybe your kids or grandkids inherited physical attributes, personality, or talents from your father. What are they?  

Looking back at incidents from long ago, what stands out? Whether you knew your father or not, whether he was a good father or not, he influenced who you are today.

Mick Silva writes that his dad “made us breakfast every Saturday and took us to the hobby store and the bike park and then helped build models we picked out and design the bike jumps on the front sidewalk. He took us fishing and when I showed no interest, he bribed me with candy bars.…

“He loved to wrestle even though he never won, and it always seemed we’d only just barely overpowered him.…

“He taught me to believe in myself and to be myself even when I didn’t much want to. He’s always accepted just who I am and was always proud of me and prayerful for who I was becoming….”

Click here to read Mick Silva’s blog post about his father and his own goals and hopes as a father himself. 

Steve Moakler writes, “Good dads lovingly lead their children into things that are scary. As much as it must pain a father to watch his kid scream, shake, and tremble, he knows his kids need to walk through fear to get to the good stuff.” Continue reading Steve’s blog post, What We Can All Learn from Good Dads.

And then there’s dear Cecil Murphey. About ten years ago, I and three or four others sat at a lunch table with him at a writer’s conference and he briefly, quietly mentioned severe beatings he received from his father. In a recent blog post, Invading the Privacy of God, Cec writes of learning about and eventually having a good relationship with a loving heavenly Father despite his own abusive human father: “My dad was an alcoholic.… With a few beers in him, he became harsh and short-tempered. I received a number of undeserved beatings, a lot of blaming for things I didn’t do, and a feeling that no matter what I did, it wouldn’t be good enough….

“Yes, I knew about an earthly father, and it wasn’t much to inspire me. Then I heard about a Heavenly Father who is different. He’s the Father who wraps loving arms around us, who listens to us, and most of all, who understands our pain.” Click on this link to read the entire touching, moving post, Invading the Privacy of God.

(Recently Cec started a valuable ministry for men who were sexually abused. Click on Shattering the Silence to learn more. Cec has written more than a hundred books on spiritual growth, Christian living, caregiving, writing, and heaven. He’s the co-author of the enormously popular 90 Minutes in Heaven, now being made into a movie.)

Stacy Sanchez writes of her father: “In my mind’s eye I can see him still—sitting out on the back porch, legs crossed, one leg resting atop one knee.  And of course, punctuating those long legs of his, cowboy boots.…

“While I vividly remember his mannerisms and gentle ways, it is the words he spoke to me that I remember most. I think this is because he was a man of few words. Even now I hear his words of instruction, guidance, humor and spunk.

“In winter: Don’t forget to pack a sleeping bag in the trunk of your car.

“In summer: If you get a flat tire, make sure when you pull over you aren’t parking on tall, dry grass. You wouldn’t want to start a fire. Oh … and watch for snakes.…”

Click here to read Stacy’s The Voice of My Father.

Claire McCarthy writes this about her father: “When my sister and I were little, we had an almost daily ritual with my father: drawing stories.

“He would sit us on his lap and get out his clipboard, a piece of paper and his black click pen. He’d divide the paper into four parts, and draw as he told a story. Sometimes he drew old favorites and we knew what would be in each of the four drawings. Sometimes he let us decide what he should say and draw. But most of the time, we had no idea what would come next.…

“Sometimes my father made fun of me with the stories, like the ones he drew when I was applying to college. I was reasonably freaked out about it, and the stories helped. Like the ones he drew when I was little, about the brave little girl who conquered whatever came along (insert fear of the week: the dark, dogs, getting lost), the stories about the silly teenager with the permed hair helped put things in perspective—and helped me see that ultimately, how I see my fears, and the world is up to me.

“That lesson has meant everything.

“My father died suddenly in 2005. I didn’t get to say goodbye, and I didn’t get to tell him how much I loved him—or how grateful I am to him.

“I so wish I could say: Daddy, thank you so much for the stories.”

Click here to read Claire’s I so wish I could say: Daddy,thank you so much for the stories.

What stories do you need to write about your father?

What will your kids and grandkids and great-grands

miss if you don’t write those stories?

3 opportunities, 4 cautions, and a FUN 6-word challenge

Sunday we’ll observe Father’s Day, and this offers you three memoir opportunities:

(1) Ponder your father’s impact on your life,
(2) examine God’s involvement in both your father’s life and yours, and
(3) write one or more vignettes.

While every father messes up sometimes, most possess redeeming qualities. They show love and commitment in various ways: They guide, teach, and encourage. They endure sub-freezing temps to cheer at high school football games and they dress up for father-daughter banquets.


Was or is your father a man of wisdom, godliness, and generosity? Hard-working, honest, and thoughtful?


If so, you’ll find it easy to write stories about him. Let his personality and character shine, but also create an accurate picture: Include his quirks and imperfections and how he worked on them.


Everyone knows: No one is perfect. While some fathers make responsible decisions and never consider failure an option, other fathers attract trouble. They habitually stumble into crisis and failure.


Perhaps your father abandoned you. How did his nonappearance affect who you are today?


Four cautions in writing your memoir:

(1) Resist humiliating people,
(2) avoid using your stories to get even,
(3) refrain from using your stories to get readers to pity or take sides with you, and
(4) remember the Golden Rule, recognizing you need others to do the same for you.


With those four cautions in mind, how did you deal with your dad’s flaws? What lessons have you learned about extending forgiveness and grace? Looking back, in what specific ways have you experienced that God is a father to the fatherless (Psalm 68:5) and defends the cause of the fatherless (Deuteronomy 10:18)? If you have children, how did your father’s absence shape the way you relate to your kids?


If your dad abandoned you or if you’re a single mom—or if you know someone in such situations—this essay by Michele Weldon is a must-read. Click on “A Father is Born from Many Strangers” at http://thisibelieve.org/essay/45044


In writing one or more vignettes about your father, look for what God was doing even if you didn’t see it at the time. Search for evidence that God worked on your behalf, through the good and the bad, to bring you to today.


In light of your current knowledge and experience, what deeper lessons did God have for you in the events you write about?


Include your thoughts—even your struggles—to understand what was going on and how, over time, God made it clearer to you.


Do you now have a better understanding of God’s purpose for your life?


Connect your stories with God’s stories, and be sure to tell your children!


Here’s the fun six-word challenge I promised: Click over to Six Word Memoirs, http://www.smithmag.net/dads, and add your own six words on being a dad or on your relationship with your father.


Take a minute to look over other submissions. A couple of my favorites: “Loved me even without his memory,” and “Unloved son becomes an adoring father.”


Leave your six-word memoir below in the comments, or on Facebook (https://www.facebook.com/pages/Spiritual-Memoirs-101/208789029139817), or e-mail me at GrandmaLetters@aol.com and put “Six-Word Memoir” in the subject line so it won’t look like spam.

Have fun!