More Wonderful Than You Know

The truth is, I’m actually good being a single, old Dad.

“Grandchildren?” The elderly woman enjoying her bagel at the next table over asked, hoping to share in the joy of grandparent-hood.
”No, father.”
”Oh.” A raised eyebrow … slow bite … wipe the cream cheese off chin.

I was 53, with a five and ten year old munching alongside me. We were only a few weeks out from Terry’s death. After 14 months of caregiving, then her loss, I must have looked to be at least in my 60’s. I knew the inevitable next question—it was built on the hope that I’d married a trophy wife a decade or two younger than me. For the record, Terry was five years older than I was.

“Married?”
”Widowed.”
{long pause complete with grave look} ”Oh.” Yes, she actually shook her head.

I let the conversation die there, that was seven years ago. It wasn’t the last time I got the “poor tragic bastard” look tossed my way. That’s typically partnered with the “what those poor kids have in store for them…” look.

Would I have received kindness if I were a dad in his 20’s or 30’s? Maybe a “chin up, you’ll find someone new soon.” I’m sure there are many ways a younger father would buoy them through their lives better than I. But I am such a better father than I’d be at 30 or 40. I have savored them in ways I never could have before loss, certainly not when I was young.

A parents deep enjoyment of their children is the best gift they can give. Children see reflected in our eyes that their treasured lives are filled with yet-to-be-known gifts and adventures, that they themselves are a gift to the world, that family and love might be waiting for them around every corner. My deep pleasure in just being with them conveys a sense of value that words alone simply can’t.

This is in direct contradiction to another look I get I call the “single dad as beggar syndrome”: don’t let him get too close, he wants you to raise his children for him! Actually - no, I prefer my own parenting for my kids. Yes, I know you think your life is utterly fabulous, but I really don’t want it. I do an adequate job of laundry, cooking, and getting children off to school and life in general. This syndrome is closely related to his mom or sister is probably raising his kids for him syndrome. Nope. They both have their own lives. I wish we lived closer, my family is very supportive of us, but I just can’t afford to live near them.

The most prevalent syndrome however is the single dads don’t exist syndrome. After it’s been verified that he’s not just divorced, or has a girlfriend doing all the work, or his mom, then he just magically disappears! It’s a weird feeling. Conversations taper off at school events, people wander away awkwardly, I dissolve into the mist.

I found the most striking documentation of this syndrome in several NY Times articles towards the tail end of quarantine about parents returning to the workforce. Mothers would be scarred by parenting through the pandemic, single mothers were having trouble rejoining the workforce. One small sentence summed up men in this position: {paraphrasing} “men are too statistically insignificant to write about on this topic.”

Yep, that's us: statistically insignificant.

I suppose that's fair play. As a single Dad I’ve also seen how tangible male privilege is in parenting. I’ve watched the single Mothers I know burden themselves with shame and unreasonable expectations. I have miles of slack to give myself, whereas most of these mothers won’t give themselves even an inch of grace. If their homes aren’t neat as a pin, if their kids aren’t participating in every possible after school activity, they’ve failed them. Many of the harshest burdens parents carry are held within, and fed by our own enculturated expectations. Most of us men carry our inner burdens around work, not home life.

I’m writing about all of this now, years after that first bucket of ice cold bagel-misery and all of the weirdness people bring to widow and widower parents, because something has shifted for me. I used to be easily impacted by these dynamics, but I noticed at our last school event that I really just don’t care anymore.

Sitting with our dog as Truly ran everywhere at high speed, I said hi to a few good friends and wonderful staffers from the school, and the rest - well I just didn’t care. I’m good being the odd man out. What a wonderful feeling!

Me and the kids are all coming into new phases in our lives. Tadg is getting ready to move on from high school (taking courses at a junior college in his senior year), Truly is graduating from grade school, and I’ve been able to spend time in a wonderful movement community - shout out to Lynne @ Soul in Motion of Bend. I even co-taught a class with Lynne and another treasured teacher Joy Reichart @ Soul Writing.

Returning to movement and teaching, seeing the kids take bigger steps out into the world without me hovering over their every move, feels like arriving someplace new and welcoming.

Despite all the loss, the aching joints, the work of parenting, my life is more wonderful than most people can imagine. I don’t travel much, am not a celebrated writer. I’ve got new aches and pains. And yes, of course the kids would benefit greatly from a wonderful mother. I’ve stopped assuming that finding a new partner and just plugging her into our life would naturally work out.

The truth is, I’m actually good being a single, old Dad. It’s pretty fucking awesome!

Here’s where I’m supposed to write out a list of cool things like not having to negotiate parenting choices with a partner, or having more one-on-one time. It’s not really about lists though.

It’s more about having every choice, every moment, cast in a kind of simplicity. Nothing is complicated, everything is right in front of me to receive and enjoy.

It’s the difference between wandering through a banquet hall filled with foods of all kinds, and being served the perfect meal, by the greatest chef, at the edge of a forest overlooking a beautiful river. Everything is just right, and I can truly enjoy each bite.

Would it be strange to see an older dad, single and bedraggled, being dragged through the world by two young, vital children and instead of pitying them thinking:

How lucky they are to have each other. What a glorious life they must be living together.

That’s the world I live in. Every day.

I hope you and yours are finding ways to savor each moment as if it were an exquisite morsel crafted for you by the most gifted confectioner the world has ever known. It really is a delicious journey, all of it!