Me & my dad, Tom
Eric and Leo
Eric's Dad, Karl & LeoMe and my dad, Tom
First I wanted to give a mental shout out to some of the coolest Dad's I know. As the consummate Daddy's-girl, I can say without reservation that my dad is my best friend and I have a very personal story to share to illustrate my point.
A few months after Leo was born I started experiencing post-partum depression that, coupled with the usual sleep deprivation that so often comes with newborns, especially the first, lead to anxiety attacks. So my pattern was that I would wake up at 4 or so every morning, waiting and simultaneously dreading my baby waking up, usually with a full-blown anxiety attack that would hang on for an hour or sometimes longer. I realized pretty much right away that I needed help and reached out in several directions at the same time, partly due to the severity of my anxiety. In the midst of this time, before all this eased, I started back to work and it was a time when I really was the breadwinner of our family - a scary place sometimes under the best of circumstances. So one morning what was becoming the usual thing happened and I crept downstairs to a blanket of snow and December darkness, knowing that the physical and mental turmoil of my anxiety needed some kind of outlet. So I bundled up and went out into the darkness to shovel the driveway because I simply didn't know what to do with myself and it felt like the safest thing to do. (Looking back on what I know of my paternal grandparents and aunts and uncles on that side, this behavior is in keeping with my heritage from them. A critic would say they were
work-aholics and that would be partially true. But sometimes when events and feelings get to be too much and whatever world we think we are holding up becomes too heavy, doing something both physical and productive is the best solution there is.)
After shoveling I came in and showered, my mind still clamoring the whole time but starting to get more manageable and less scary. By this time it was about 6 am, a more reasonable time to call. I toweled off and went into our office and called my Dad because I knew he would be up. I also knew he would really get what I was feeling: giant fears of the unknown waking me up in the night, more responsibilities than I had EVER had, and what seemed like scores of opportunities to screw up myself, my relationship and most importantly, this tiny life I had grown and brought into the world. We talked for a long time that morning, him listening mostly. But the most important part of this conversation, to me, happened towards the end and I will never forget it and the feeling in my soul. I was talking about going to work earlier in the week in the midst of a very scary anxiety attack and how we needed me to work right then so I struggled through all those physical and mental symptoms for some while at work until they finally eased. I can remember not even being sure I could drive safely on my way there but I persisted and got through it. So I was telling my Dad about that morning at work and he said he had had a busy week himself but that he was sorry he hadn't called, that he wished he could have been there for me. Being in a much better place emotionally than I was earlier, I paused for a second and told him that he was there with me the whole time, right at my side every hill I climbed that week and every week. Watching him keep going each day when life was really challenging - to keep going to work, to keep going to meetings, to keep up relationships and parenting and all the rest, that was my example. The friendship we have and the things he has taught me by his courageous sharing and his example is priceless to me. No matter how far apart we ever live or even when one of us departs this world for a time, my father is always with me. He is the rock I build my life on and I am forever grateful the universe gave me such a gift.
Happy Father's Day.
