A Father's Day Love Letter

There are a multitude of well-deserved ways to celebrate all fathers today. Foremost, we think about our own dads. We think about those men who’ve influenced us; the mentors, coaches, other fathers and teachers who’ve left an imprint in our formational journey. Our collective community of men who show up for others, regardless of whether they have children of their own, is to be commended.

Today, I’d like to offer a different perspective. Correct me if I’m wrong, but I think a mother’s appreciation for her son now a father has yet to make it’s own marquis in the greeting card aisle. It’s quite a sweet and tender perspective to witness your own son as a dad. For all you older (but not old) moms like me, I hope you can relate to this love letter to my sons who are well-entrenched in the world of fatherhood.

Dear Ben and Matthew,

It seems like a mere moment ago when you were little seedlings that dominated my world. Now you navigate your own big lives with your own families. I will always love you, of course, but since you’ve become dads, I’ve cultivated a new appreciation. I see how you extend yourselves into the world of your children. Little do you know how I’ve been paying attention.

Truth be told, part of me chuckles a bit. Those difficult sticking points you and I had to navigate when you were younger are now like inherited dominant gene traits. You know the saying, what goes around comes around? Who knew that stubbornness, like-minded struggles, and the ability to dig into a disagreement are part of your transferred DNA.

I remember when you sought refuge from our family dinner table, finding any way possible to escape from my relentless quest to create meaningful conversation. Now, at your dinner table, I see how you try to bring forth cohesiveness and opportunities to share about your days. Some days it works, other days are relinquished to chaos. That’s just how it goes.

I see patience when your 2-year-old daughter’s escalating “NO’s!” threaten to derail a given moment. I see encouragement when your very competitive 8-year-old son gets frustrated playing in the basketball game that doesn’t go so well. I love how you hang out on the floor fully engrossed in the world of puzzles and blocks. I love your embrace of cold January days when the blow up bounce contraption in the basement becomes a DIY amusement park. I melt at your tenderness when a skinned knee stills you with compassion. Most of all, I love how you wrap your arms around your kids, enveloping them in the kind of convincing security and love unique from a Dad.

You have many miles to go until your children have children of their own. Finding balance between guidance and freedom, listening and lecturing, and helping to navigate the best path forward for each child won’t always be easy. Don’t worry, it will all be ok. I recognize that you see each of your children as different; worthy of a different part of you. I have faith in you because you learned how to be a dad from your own dad, and that continues to be a very good thing.

You both, like so many other young dads work hard to juggle all the best ways to care for your kids. Please know you are seen, heard, and celebrated not only today, but every day. Happy Father’s Day. Love, Mom