What We Leave Behind - 11 Ideas to Make You a Better Dad

We recently had some house guests. They brought their 15 month old daughter. It’s been a long time since we had a baby in the house. But you never forget things: how little they sleep; how much they have to say. 

I enjoyed telling the new Dad a few things. Like once you teach them to walk and talk, you’ve lost all control of the asylum. He looked at me like I’d eaten too much paste as a kid. He’ll learn. 

Time is moving slowly for them right now. Long days; short nights. But it will change soon. In my experience, life moves slow at an extremely rapid pace.

““Life moves slow at a very rapid pace””

A different friend recently attended his annual Donuts with Dads. Each child was asked to name ten things they love about their Dad. Number two on his kid’s list was “My Dad has lots of homeless friends”. Wow. Personally I don’t have any homeless friends. And that’s where the story begins.

My daughter was in first grade. I was busy kicking, fighting, scratching and clawing through my career. She was asked to color a picture of what makes her Mommy & Daddy happy. My sweet little girl colored a picture of my wife arranging flowers (left). And she colored a picture of me sitting in the passenger window of a Delta jet. The caption was “My Daddy is happy when he is on airplanes”. Ouch. Sometimes God will use the voices (or Crayons) of other people to speak to us.

This picture is framed and has been on my desk for 15 years.

Here's the problem. Everyone wants to know why people act the way they do. But few people are ever willing to look at their own behavior. 

Why do I do the things I do? 

And who am I doing them for?

We cannot see our own blind spots. It’s like trying to see the back of your head after getting a jacked-up haircut for $9 at Supercuts. Or like Cheryl not realizing that it was just lightning that burned down her She-Shed. C’mon, Cheryl. 

But kids are observant. Extremely observant. They see us exactly as we are. Warts and all. It’s easy to get focused on the prize and forget that they are always watching. Always learning. Always listening. Cause no matter how much of a tool your Dad was, you always worshipped him. You probably still do.

In our minds we are all the coolest Dad on the planet. We all want Alan Jackson to sing about us.

Just an old half-ton short-bed Ford

My uncle bought new in '64

Daddy got it right 'cause the engine was smoking

Couple of burnt valves and he had it going

The worst Dads on the planet wanna be that Dad. I wanna be that Dad. Even though I couldn’t fix a burnt valve with “some pliers and a case of 30-weight ball bearings”. I still wanna be that Dad. Fine tuning that short-bed Ford pickup.

Drive (for Daddy Gene) is still one of my favorite songs. And you can watch Alan Jackson sing it live at the Grand Ole Opry here (2019). 

We all think we are decent human beings. Until we hear about a Dad who “has lots of homeless friends”. The two Dad stories provide a fascinating contrast. 

We often compare ourselves to the worst Dad we know. The guy who got caught with his pants down. The guy who left the kids and ran off with the Secretary. The guy who sends the kids a box of Hickory Farms smoked meats and cheeses at Christmas. “I’m not as bad as that guy.” Not the best measuring stick, my friend.

Up before dawn, Dressing in the dark. Coffee on the run. Expertly navigating Monday morning before daylight. Dodging the lines with children-and other uninitiated folks. Clearing TSA with surgical precision. Knowing the right bathrooms. And hoping for the Shakespeare seat (2B). Jangling metal tags. Super big time. 

He let me drive here when we'd haul off a load

Down a dirt strip where we'd dump trash off of Thigpen Road

Sit up in the seat and stretch my feet out to the pedals

Smiling like a hero that just received his medal

Up before dawn. Dressing in the dark. Coffee on the run. Expertly navigating Monday morning before daylight. Reaching the kitchen. Cracking hundreds of eggs. The smell of fresh brewed coffee and bacon in the air. Toast for days.  Navigating the gathering crowd with surgical precision. Reaching out; but for the grace of God. Super Big Time. 

Some might say that seeing me run all over hell’s half acre was a good lesson for my daughter. Mission accomplished, I guess. The velocity of life, and all.  I guess that’s one of the panes in my window.

But like a roller coaster, sometimes you don’t realize how fast you are moving until it stops. And everything around you keeps moving. And you hear someone’s kid say “my Daddy has lots of homeless friends”. In an instant, we go from jet setting business mogul, metal tags jangling…. to self-absorbed, travel Dad who chooses work over family. Ouch. From the mouth of babes and sucklings, I guess.  

It was just an old hand-me-down Ford

With three-speed on the column and a dent in the door

A young boy two hands on the wheel

I can't replace the way it made me feel

This is one of the great challenges of man. Managing the many obstacles of growing a family, building a career, making a good income, being a half-decent spouse and not ending up on some “Dad Fail” Instagram post. And trying to keep your chin just about the...