While I was
writing my previous post about disciplinary fathers, I realised duality of my memories.
There was a father who I felt threatened by and who dampened my mood when he was
home and there was another father who taught me to ride a motorbike. Teaching
me such a boyish skill did not seem to be connected to tenderness and perhaps
it was not. But there was definitely love there. And lots of it. I may have not
realised it then but I so clearly see it now. This is why I want to continue
reflecting on the subject of a very complex relationship with disciplinarian
fathers. In the generation of my father there were so many of them, later on it
was almost expected from men to be softer with their children. Slowly, in many
countries leading by Scandinavia, fathers were expected to play active and
important role in taking care of children. My father, though, was brought up
differently. He was most of all a man, his father role was not that pronounced
and did not include understanding, caressing, playing with his children. He was
supposed to be a man who had to provide for his family and be respected by
children. There was no place for warm and fuzzy. His catholic upbringing also
had something to do with his understanding of his responsibilities towards the
family.
During my
childhood I observed events and I gave them meaning. The only meaning I was
able to give with my very limited experience and lack of understanding of life.
I saw my father as a hard man, short tempered, rash, dangerous and cold. This
is the impression he made on me. Now, that I think about it, I realise that his
self-image required certain behaviours, that seemed hard to me. That self-image was a product of his
upbringing. I was not able to see through the barriers he was surrounded by. I
believe that deep down there was a softy somewhere but he was not able and not
allowed to show it. It must have been hard on him.
I cannot be
sure but I believe that relationships father-son are much more complex that it
was in my case. I observed some man competing with their fathers. They had to
prove that they were better, stronger, more or at least equally successful. I
observed a son wrestling with his much older father who had a small chance to
win. The son was a really nice and sensitive person but in this situation there
was no mercy for his father’s ego. He had too much to prove to himself to
notice that the conquest was uneven.
I was tempted
to write more on the subject father-son relationships and about impact
successful fathers have on life of their sons. I gave up on that though. It is
too complex a subject and requires more though. Maybe some other time? I am
tempted...
In any case it
was cathartic for me to think and write about my feeling towards my father. I
am so grateful for what he gave me, even if he hurt me as well.
