Among Friends Have an opinion on this column? Submit a Letter to the Editor Click here to return to archives Wise words of fatherhood By Tad Bartimus Posted June 11, 2008 It wasn't until I lost my father that I realized how much my decisions are guided by his example, spirit and good advice. We didn't have many heart-to-heart conversations; as a soldier in a time of war, dad was a "just wait until you father gets home" kind of parent, so when he flew in from halfway around the world, he heard various versions of the same story, then issued a quick thumbs-up, thumbs-down verdict. When he was around, particularly when I was a teenager, I knew what was expected of me. The consequence of not living up to his expectations meant I would disappoint him; this I tried never to do. Dad's high standards allowed little room for negotiation. He demanded fairness and honesty, but he also took truthful confessions into account when he meted out punishment. He resorted only once to corporal punishment, a mere bottom tap; he was the one who cried. Dad judged others by actions, not words. If somebody was dishonest or cruel, he confronted them, spoke his mind, then dismissed the point shavers from his field of vision. Throughout his life, dad told us, "You're lucky if you have six faithful friends to carry you on your last ride." At his funeral, 300 mourners would have been honored to shoulder that responsibility. Among his greatest lessons to me was the value of strategic retreat. When I was being coerced by my boss into taking a job at which I knew I'd fail, dad told me there was no shame in backing away from what, superficially, appeared to be a promotion but was, in reality, a disaster waiting to happen. When I impulsively decided to marry a charismatic but self-destructive man all wrong for me, I asked my dad for advice. He didn't try to argue me out of it, and instead asked, long distance, "How's your stomach feel?" "Not so good," I said. How did he know? "Well," drawled my father, "I guess that's your answer." He taught me to trust my instincts, err on the side of love and that there are just two kinds of people in this world -- those who are generous of spirit and those who aren't. Thinking of all the fine fathers I know, I asked some of my favorites to share their mile markers: -- Scott, father of Jenny and Abby: "You've gotta have a sense of humor to get through life. For girls, especially, it's important to be strong and independent, be confident and have a clear sense of self. Sometimes you have to insist they solve their own problems rather than have mom and dad helicopter in for the rescue. We have tried to give our children a sense of the broader world -- politics, history, other people, sports, religion and faith. We want them to help repair the world, to learn and study. The reality is, if we give them the tools and freedom, it will work out just fine. Sometimes the best parenting is getting out of the way." -- Stuart, father of Mark, Peekie and Chris: "Life is tough; it's tougher if you act stupid. Some 95 percent of the world's problems are caused by 5 percent of its people. Victory favors neither the righteous nor the wicked; it favors the prepared. Take everything with a grain of salt." -- John, father of Brian and Lauren: "Character defines the person we project to others. Honesty is the most important trait. I tried to instill discipline not only in their behavior, but also in their education and work. They watched me work hard at my profession and become somewhat successful. They knew I wanted them to do the best they could at whatever they did. I support their dreams." -- Bill, father of Michael, Jack, Samantha and James: "Look people in the eye when you speak to them; you will both pay attention and care. Be on time and prepared, and you'll best two-thirds of the competition. Pursue your passion; if someone pays you to do it, you win. Send a thank-you note or postcard to everyone who helps you along. No e-mails, no phone calls, a note or a postcard, handwritten, with a stamp. You will be remembered forever. Overdress, and dress nicely. Yes, it's the grand adventure of a lifetime, but first check the oil." To which my father would have added, "and kick the tires."