My dad is the primary caregiver for my son when I work. My mom was around this summer while school was out, and my sister pitches in. My mother-in-law takes her turn, but my dad is my number one go-to person. My dad is retired, and therefore home during the day. He’s also one of the most patient, loving people I know. And he’s hands-down the best dad in the world. You can argue, and my husband will be a close second to him, but my dad is the best. Seriously.
He’s not perfect. In the few short months of my son’s life my dad has managed to give us some fodder for the family tales. There is this infamous picture of my father, deep in conversation, holding my 2-week old son. Both Granda and baby are blissfully unaware of the fact that Monster is spilling out of his resting place; my father is deep in conversation and Monster is sleeping.
And this morning, when I went up to say good-bye to them before I left for work, my dad was about to button Monster’s onesie over his pants…sort of an underwear outside his pants look. After I informed him that the onesie snapped underneath the pants he told me that he would have figured it out eventually. And I believed him. I guess.
But really, I trust that Monster is in good hands with my dad. He loves Monster. He hates putting him down for a nap because he just wants to play with him. He sings Irish tunes to Monster when he’s fussy, and always offers to change diapers. When I show up at my parents’ house, Monster in tow, my dad rushes outside to carry the car seat in the house. He is calm when Monster is not, patient when Monster is screaming his head off, and always, always happy to see him.
But the best thing my dad gives is unconditional love. My dad loves with a grace that astounds me. I never questioned if he loved me. After my fourth (or sixth) car accident my dad still defended my driving skills. After a mistake or failure my dad always told me he loved me. I’ve had conversations with many people whose fathers weren’t the loving, forgiving men that fathers should be. It never fails to amaze me how deep those wounds lie. Years later the most confident, self-assured people panic in the face of abandonment, reliving freshly the pain of a father who left long ago. And the smallest failure can cripple an otherwise very successful person when it takes them back to a childhood of never being good enough for his father. The father wounds lie deep.
And it makes me all the more grateful for my dad. When it feels like I’m all alone a conversation with my dad reminds me that I’ve got people who have been and will be with me for the long haul. When I’ve failed again a phone call with my father reminds me that no matter how hard the fall, I’ve still got a fan club. And when I just need to be loved, my dad’s voice carries all the love in the world.
So maybe Monster will wear some weird outfits on days that Granda takes care of him. And maybe he’ll get into something he shouldn’t when my dad’s attention is elsewhere. But I’m excited for the bond that will form between them. I think Granda will be one of Monster’s most favorite people. He may even become his best friend. I couldn’t ask for a better buddy for my son. Regardless I know my dad will give Monster the gift of unconditional love. A sense of “ok-ness” in a world that tells you to be more. And that makes me giddy and at peace and hopeful all at once.
