You never outgrow your need for your dad. No matter what age, there’s always a time when you need your dad.
Dad’s are life’s ultimate backstop when it comes to feeling safe and secure, getting good advice, hearing hard truths, being put on the right path or redirected when you’ve veered off course. Over a lifetime, dads become trusted friends and advisors, and there is nothing better than seeing them become grandfathers, and share their wisdom and experience with your own children.
In today’s world of single parents and non-traditional households, some argue that the presence of a father in a home isn’t really necessary…I’m afraid that I heartily disagree. In fact, I’d assert that the lack of a present father at home is a leading cause of the disfunction we see in so many young people today.
From my point of view, Dad’s are the first men their daughters ever love, and a father’s love helps those little girls form the basis for healthy relationships going forward in life. Fathers at home teach their sons how to grow into responsible men. There is no replacement for a good father’s presence in the home.
As we grow and start our own adult lives, the support, love and guidance a father can offer is like no other. Dad’s offer counsel about career, relationships and life in general. I can still remember four specific talks I had with my dad that truly informed how I led my life, what direction I should take, and how I might evaluate very difficult situations.
The first was in sixth grade and dad was talking to me about character, not making excuses and holding myself to a high standard (I think that talk informed much of my academic and social life from then on), the next was in college when he was not happy with a unilateral change I made in my course of study (I changed from pre-med to media management and dad was pretty unhappy.
I stood my ground and pursued my passion. It meant funding my remaining time in college on my own, but that too was character building), the third talk involved my decision to move to Nevada and marry Fred.
I was his eldest, but also the last of his children to marry l, and he just wanted to be certain that I was sure…he saw me turning my back on a successful career and life…he just wanted to make sure I was sure…I was. The last life changing talk my dad and I had was on December 7, 2011. Fred was undergoing his 11th surgery for ureter cancer. He had opted for less invasive surgery than proposed; something that should remove the cancer but also allow him to keep being him. It came with the risk that surgeons would miss something. Dad took my hand in the waiting room, something he rarely did. He talked about the strength it must take to honor Fred’s choice given the fact that we had a young daughter to raise.
He told me that he was proud of me for loving and respecting my husband enough to support him in his decision. He said how easy it would be to demand that Fred make any sacrifice to ensure he stay with Patrice and I. He told me that he hoped he would be as strong in my position.
I had my dad until January 2015, when I was 53 years old. He was an amazing man. His passing was sudden and unexpected and it took me a couple years to accept that he was really gone. I always thought that he would outlive us all. I had lost people I loved before, but truly, until I lost my dad, and his dad (my papa), I never really understood feeling alone.
Four years after losing Dad, I lost my husband, and I felt the absence of my dad even more acutely. For me, the lack of a trustworthy man in my life to help me feel safe and secure was daunting. That perhaps is not a popular thing to admit in todays world, but it was and still is true, and I believe it’s the natural order of things.
Without Dad, Pop and Fred, I learned to rely on myself. I was forced to make every decision in my life, my business, and guide my young daughter as I thought her dad and I would have together. It hasn’t been fun or liberating, it’s just been hard. I knew I could handle things on my own, and choosing to share that load with a husband or dad came down to choice, not intellect. I’ve done it and I’m stronger for the experience…but part of me wonders if dad, papa and Fred would like the Kris that their passings have of necessity created.
I can’t know, but I hope that even if they found me harder than before, at least they would be proud of my determination and resilience, traits I learned at least in part from them.
I’m fortunate to have some extraordinary friends, a tremendous brother and other family members who help me when I need them. It means a lot, but it can never replace Dad.
For all you lucky folks who still have your Dad in your life, use this little column as an extra reminder to give them a call, spend some time together, and ask them what they think about something important in your life. Dads are precious, enjoy and appreciate yours while you can.
Kris Stewart is a rancher from Paradise Valley, Nevada.
