It takes some time to be a father

George Le Masurier

of the Gateway

Dear Kids, I thought about letting you write my annual Father’s Day column this year so you could tell the world exactly what you think of me.

In a rare moment of sobriety, I decided that wouldn’t be a good idea.

Instead, I decided to tell the world what I think of you.

I can’t explain why, but in the world of adults, an expression of love for children doesn’t happen often enough. Maybe it seems too sentimental and not a cool thing to do.

I know from personal experience that busy adults sometimes forget what’s really important in life.

Before I became a father, I wondered why other men had pictures of their families on their desks or in their billfolds. I remember thinking if you just saw your kids at breakfast and will see them again at dinner, why do you need to look at their pictures during the day?

I realized later that these pictures provide fathers with a few precious moments away from the daily hustle. Looking at the photographs of your cheery little faces on my own desk often transported me out of the office to a place of love and happy thoughts that overshadowed the trials and tribulations of work.

Working parents often lament that they have so little time with their children. You work to make a better life for your family. You have friends. You have your own interests. And it’s hard to find the right balance, especially with a young family.

It’s easy to take your family for granted. How many fathers have slipped into thinking their kids will be around tomorrow and the next day and the day after that, so what’s the rush? Those other things seem so much more important right now.

But time passes quickly. Before you know it, holy cow, the kids have turned into adults. It seems like only yesterday you were cleaning the poop out of their pants.

You realize those hard days of “terrible twos” and dirty diapers and watching the latest Disney movie for the umpteenth time are now long behind you. You can only hope you didn’t miss anything significant.

I feel lucky, and proud, that all of you have great jobs, own your homes, have written books, gotten doctorate degrees, started your own businesses and contributed to your communities. Not every father gets to enjoy that.

Sometimes, when the passage of time strikes me like a lightening bolt, I get melancholy because our moments together have provided most of the best memories of my life. I often miss the buzz of teenagers hovering around the refrigerator and our raucous card games around the kitchen table on Saturday nights.

Each of you has given me hundreds of such moments. Just reflecting on them reminds me that time drives ahead too quickly. Soon, they will be just old memories. Much too soon. As I get older, my greatest fear is that I won’t remember them at all.

I’m lucky, though. Some fathers don’t get to share many memories with their sons and daughters. Some fathers die young, some suffer the heartache of their children’s premature deaths.

Those of us blessed with our children sometimes say we don’t have enough time for them. There is time. The truth is, we don’t take it often enough.

Happy Father’s Day, kids.

Reach George Le Masurier at 253-853-9248 or by e-mail at publisher@gateline.com.