My father died when I was eleven, and was in and out of my life before that, so I don’t have too many solid memories of him.
And while I was super close with my mother, I never felt like I knew “the whole story” with her. I think my mom operated under the “I didn’t want to tell you because you weren’t ready” mentality, and we never quite got there.
In anticipation of Father’s Day, I’ve been thinking a lot about what being a father means to me, and a big part of it is sharing as much of my life as possible with my two kids.
This meant bringing them to work as much as was possible (and realistic) while they were growing up, and it also meant letting them have a voice in where we’d go on vacation, or to eat – or any of our family plans, for that matter. And it’s meant being open with my children emotionally (within reason of course).
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Being a father has also meant passing on “life lessons.” I’ve always emphasized three “golden rules” with my kids..
