Father's Day in a changing world

Mothers bear the pain of childbirth, which is a wonderful, miraculous thing of beauty. It’s appropriate that we honor and celebrate motherhood in western culture and throughout the world, but for fathers, that whole “giving birth” thing presents a very hard act to follow. We begin our journey into parenthood, very clearly in the number two slot, and spend much of the rest of our lives trying to catch up. In spite of our biological shortcomings, each year fathers receive a participation trophy in the form of Father’s Day.

I need not remind you of the traditional stereotypes associated with Father’s Day like ugly ties, golf balls, fishing gear and grilling accessories as gifts, or even generalities about dads that include bad jokes and bathroom smells. With those familiar tropes as a backdrop, our culture has a refreshingly lighthearted, if not diminishing attitude toward the day that recognizes the otherwise serious business of fatherhood.

Although Father’s Day has been celebrated throughout the world since the middle ages, observances of the day tend to be relatively modest. A few countries celebrate Father’s Day as a public holiday. Dads and nearly everyone else is given a day away from the office in Samoa, Spain, Lithuania and Estonia. Otherwise, most countries view the holiday as a nice excuse to exchange gifts, but not important enough to take a day off.

Among its duties, The National Retail Federation (NRF) keeps track of holiday retail trends and has ranked the top ten “spending holidays” in the United States. It should surprise no one that Father’s Day spending is lighter than that of Mother’s Day, but the NRF has ranked Father’s Day as the seventh-largest holiday for retail spending. Mother’s Day is number four after “Back to College” (books, clothes and microwaves),“Winter Holidays” (AKA Christmas) and “Back to School” (K-12). Fathers clock in at number seven after all of the above plus Easter and Valentine’s day. Dad ranks below Valentine’s Day?

Chris Rock, who was a comic before he became a punching bag, once performed a brilliant standup set about fatherhood saying, “Daddy pays for the water, daddy pays for the gas, daddy pays for the electricity, and if daddy didn’t pay for the electricity, he’d pay for the candle on your nightstand, so you can study for the big test tomorrow.”

Rock’s statement is correct to the extent that it describes a few of the responsibilities of fatherhood that, if not unappreciated, are at least unacknowledged. I don’t recall ever seeing an obituary that described someone as being a “devoted father who paid for electricity and natural gas.” These things go unmentioned, in part, because such behaviors are recognized as functions of adulthood in general, but it’s also something that fathers don’t crow about.

Dads don’t gloat about paying bills because it’s part of the dad code. Dads may even struggle to make that gas payment, but his job is to keep the family blissfully unaware. Dad carries the burden, and in most cases, does so gladly. Yes, he might walk around the house muttering obscenities and turning off lights, but he also eats the heel on a loaf of bread, and does his best to provide for everyone else before himself.

In that regard, fatherhood represents a coming of age; a rite of manhood. When we become fathers, we trade our youth in exchange for the greater privilege of being a dad. In some cases, the transition is quite tangible. Dads have been known to sell their drum sets to buy swing sets and sports cars are frequently replaced by minivans, but more often than not, dads just adjust their priorities. The toys and indulgences of adulthood are simply deferred, as they should be.

I mention the monetary side of fatherhood for a couple of reasons. Yes, the sacrifices are frequently unnoticed and uncelebrated, but to some extent, that is by design. As we navigate through the aftermath of covid and into inflation, a fuel crisis and a recession, I can’t help but think there are a few young guys out there who don’t know what hit them. Imagine if you had to deal with this economy, give up your childhood and assume responsibility for mouths to fill all in the same year. My heart goes out to those kids and they need to know that we are all rooting for them.

That’s one aspect of fatherhood, but another is time, and there is far too little of it. Yes, it is nothing short of excruciating to watch two hours of other people’s toddlers trying desperately to pull off a pirouette, but when our own takes the stage, time stands still and the other kids fade into the background. The experience is transformational, and for a few moments we forget about any sacrifices made and absorb the special joy and pride that makes parenting a privilege.

When my obituary is written, I hope someone remembers to mention the times I spent paddling a Tupperware kayak with my kids on Hugh Butler lake. As I look back, I can say without reservation that those were truly the happiest times of my life. The joy of those days spent with my children make everything else look trivial by comparison, and in that regard, it is the dads who should be thankful.

To the satisfaction of a few, and the chagrin of many, our culture is going through substantial changes in the way that we look at parental roles and gender in general. The Beaver Cleaver family profile that I grew up with in the 1960s is still alive and kicking, but it’s no longer the only game in town. The fact is that, throughout history, the structure of the family has had to be flexible and adaptive. Disease, wars and migrations have been disruptors since the beginning of time, but we have some newer variables that began with women in the workplace, a rise in divorce rates and a recognition that some of the stereotypical roles simply don’t apply anymore.

I will spare us all the deep dive into the socioeconomic implications of single-parent households, rethinking gender roles and the influences of the alphabet community. That’s all sticky stuff that more often than not, puts people in a weird mood. If it’s at all possible to do so without the politics and the emotional baggage, I hope we can recognize that sometimes, for a variety of reasons, moms become dads too. Where others see a breakdown of social order linked directly to a rise in single-parent households, I see heroes. I see superwomen. I see people doing difficult things under difficult circumstances, and while I’m not usually a fan of drippy Hallmark cards with awkward poetry, we might consider sending a Father’s Day card to a single mom in our personal orbit just to let her know that we acknowledge her efforts and the challenges before her.

As poignant and heavy as that may all be, Father’s Day is ultimately a time to acknowledge hapless old guys with their corny jokes and peculiar habits. Dads are, after all, an odd breed and should be celebrated, but let’s not get too serious. Let’s finish with lyrics from a song made famous by genially rude Groucho Marx:

Today, father, is father’s day

And we’re giving you a tie

It’s not much, we know

It is just our way of showing you

We think you’re a regular guy

You say it was nice of us to bother

But it really was a pleasure to fuss

For according to our mother, you’re our father

And that’s good enough for us.