Just a phone call on Father’s Day far better than a tie

Published 9:00 pm Monday, June 11, 2007

My husband has been perusing the ads in newspapers and magazines describing the “choicest” Father’s Day gifts of the season.

He reads them out loud to me. I can tell the products that appeal to him by the enthusiasm in his voice as it rises in volume ever so slightly.

“You are not my father,” I remind him. “You’re preaching to the wrong choir. Buy yourself a present, and I’ll take you out to dinner to celebrate.”

He is not appeased. What he wants – a card or telephone call from his son – may not be forthcoming.

Oh, he’ll probably hear from his daughters but it is not the same as talking about ordinary stuff man-to-man with an only son.

In his son’s defense, he leads a very busy life in city 200 miles away from us. He’s changed jobs and is busy establishing his new role as a marketing expert for an engineering firm. He has been very good about helping his mother through a series of lifestyle problems.

And, as I do not hesitate to point out, my husband could pick up the telephone or send a card. If he gets voice mail, he can leave a message and try again. But on this subject my husband is old-fashioned and too darn stubborn. I married him when he was 55 and not about to change his ways, he tells me.

Parents are supposed to love unconditionally, I remind him. He should not place such high expectations on a son already juggling concerns for a pregnant wife, small child, ailing mother, new job and big mortgage.

“We should be the ones remembering him on Father’s Day,” I say. “Even if you get voice mail when you call, you can still tell him you love him.”

When a son places his wife and children first and follows a strong moral compass in his personal and business life, he’s giving his father – and mother – the greatest gift of all: a son to be truly proud of in every way.

A young father today has so many stressors in his life. He has to work hard to provide financially for his family as well as carve out time in his day to just be “Dad” to his children.

When my sons were young, their father was in a demanding business that took him away from home six days a week early in the morning until long after a normal dinner hour.

His schedule rarely included time for a Little League game, wrestling match or school events. He usually managed Friday night football games.

I know that today he deeply regrets all the missed opportunities, because there is no instant replay on a special day in a child’s life.

My sons remember, too. Remember being on the Little League team that was last to get uniforms and had a coach who brought his six-pack of Bud to practice. No fathers showed up to help at their practice, just a few moms like me who could get away from work or were full-time homemakers.

As fathers today, my sons have a “second” chance.

The oldest has put in dozens of extra hours so he can leave early and drive 90 miles from a job site in Burlington to Sammamish in time for a 4:30 p.m. baseball game or practice.

He’s an assistant coach, soft-spoken and encouraging. When a mistake is made, he can talk about it in a way that makes the youngster understand but not get down on himself.

That’s what the best dads do. They don’t hit or shout or bully. They’re patient, as love should always be. They’re firm in correcting bad behavior and generous in praising the positive.

My husband’s son is also that kind of dad. I’ve watched him with his little girl and theirs is a loving, trusting relationship.

He cooks or washes dishes, changes diapers and helps around the house even after a long day at work if that means giving his wife a breather. He reads bedtime stories and says prayers. He knows what it means to be a father, and I think he learned it by watching his own father through the years.

So if Father’s Day comes and my husband looks a little down, I’ll remind him, once more, that our children don’t have to buy us presents or send cards, because the way they conduct their lives is the greatest gift they could ever give us.

His son is a great dad, and I say that’s a lifetime gift worth 10,000 Father’s Day cards.

Linda Bryant Smith writes about life as a senior citizen and the issues that concern, annoy and often irritate the heck out of her now that she lives in a world where nothing is ever truly fixed but her income. You can e-mail her at ljbryantsmith@yahoo.com.