Ken Solin

Fathers Day is this Sunday, and around the country fathers will be honored by their families for what they’ve done for their children. To the men who have given themselves selflessly to benefit their children, I salute you. All fathers know the struggle involved in parenting. The sacrifices that fathers make along the way, particularly the ones that involve giving their time and energy, are partly what determines a good dad. Being a good dad is never, ever about money. You can’t purchase fatherhood.

The father who passes on an opportunity to play golf, basketball, or a hike with his friends because he feels his children’s needs come first deserves to be recognized and honored this Sunday. The father who helps his children with their school work or spends time alone with them to counsel them about appropriate behavior and social responsibilities is a hero to his kids, and deservedly so.

The notion that being a father ends when a child reaches eighteen and goes off to college, the military, or his first job, is fallacious because in reality, being a father is a lifetime commitment. My son is forty-three, and I still have the same love and concern for him that I had when he was just a small boy. My love for my son has grown over time, not diminished. I am always available to him whenever he needs me to be, and I have never shirked my responsibility as a dad.

What I have gotten back over the years has made whatever sacrifice I ever made on his behalf, more than worthwhile. I have my son’s love and respect, and there’s no price tag on that. I watch my son interact with my five year old grandson and my heart swells with pride for his devotion and patience. I like to think I set a good example for him in terms of how a man should value his children.

If you don’t see yourself in any of this article, I suggest you dig deep down and try to fathom why you don’t. It’s never too late to be the father you would like to be, but haven’t been. While your children may wonder what took you so long to become involved in their lives, they will most certainly appreciate your efforts, late as they may be.

To understand the importance and value of being a good father is to understand what it means to act like a man!

Every year for the past thirty years or so, my son has called me on Mothers Day to thank me. I raised my son, David, from a one year old until he went off to the Marine Corps.

In the late 1960′s, single dads were rare and services like daycare weren’t around yet. I had to invent how to raise a baby while at the same time just beginning my career right after college. I figured out a workable, daily plan and found a terrific woman with kids of her own to watch my son while I worked or traveled for work. I poured myself into my career and raising my son and there was little time left for anything else.

I loved him with all my heart and soul and wished only that he find the happiness in his youth that I never did. I coached his soccer and baseball teams, baked cookies for school functions, never missed a Parent/Teacher conference, and always knew where he was when he wasn’t at home.

The reward for the sacrificing was phenomenal. My son and I have a relationship that runs far deeper than I ever could have imagined. At 43, he is my hero now and I am grateful for the opportunity I had to bond with him.

My own experience with my father was dismal and violent. I didn’t learn any parenting skills from him except to be as unlike him as possible. The list of differences between me and my father as parents is long. I told my son I love him, regularly,  since he was born. I tell him each time we speak how proud I am of his as a man. I am his best friend. I don’t judge him. I’m a good listener. I give him feedback only when he asks for it. I rarely talk about my life, preferring to ask about his.

There are many single dads now and I hope they recognize how special their relationships with their children are. If you’re a single dad and struggling with all that entails, take comfort from knowing that your sacrifice will be rewarded by your children’s success and happiness. And pat yourself on the back from time to time. You deserve it.

The photo at the left was taken on the tiny South Pacific island of Vanuatu, where every year men who want to be recognized as the bravest jump from the equivalent of a seven story building, held only by a vine attached to their ankles. The idea is to leap from the top and land with your head just a scant few inches short of the ground.

While this is surely a death-defying act, so is making friends for many men. The notion of asking another man to be a friend is so frightening that even a man who is lonely for the company of other men will stop short of asking another man for his friendship.

The fear of being seen as less than manly is exacerbated by the fear of rejection. For decades I have asked men without friends why they are in that situation and the answer is nearly always the same. “I don’t know, but I really would like to have a friend or friends.” When I ask if they are willing to work at making friends, they frequently answer, “yes, how do I go about doing that? I really don’t know how.”

I think about male adolescence when nearly all boys have friends and few had to think about how they made that happen. As adults men do think about how to make friends, but after decades of being lone wolves, they simply have forgotten what’s in the friendship mix.

The seven story leap of faith for western man is based on his lack of trust and associated fear of other men. Guys frequently and erroneously feel that other men wouldn’t be interested in befriending them and their fear precludes them from trying. Fear ties in with trust and combined are powerful forces to be reckoned with. Few men feel confident enough to risk being rejected by other men. That would only confirm their worst fears about themselves.

Until I was in my forties, I had no close friends, no one with whom I could share my life and issues. But my loneliness became too much to bear and my desire for male friendship finally pushed me to extend myself to other men. I joined a bicycle club, I jogged with other men and engaged them in conversation, I started a men’s group, I worked on a political campaign with other like-minded men, and I stopped being afraid.

The worst that might happen is I would be rejected, but I wasn’t. I quickly realized that other men were no different than me in terms of their fears. I stopped avoiding eye contact with men and began looking men directly in their eyes. My facial expression said I wasn’t a threat and I wasn’t looking to score points. It said I was open to conversation and eventually friendship.

The next time the opportunity presents itself, take the leap. Be yourself and present yourself exactly as the man you are. You will be surprised how receptive other men will be to your being open.

Loneliness can be forever, and so can friendship. You choose.