I am in the process of reading the Daddy Shift – which so far has been a really excellent read.

The book explores what it means to be a father today, and in the process discusses how many dad’s today do not  use their own fathers as role models.  This being, in part, because many of the fathers of our generation were absent much of the time, both literally — working long hours — and emotionally

It made me sit and reflect a bit, about my own father and the memories I have of him and his fathering style.

It is hard to reach back that far and recall with great accuracy specific memories.  Rather then is a conglomerate of memories and feelings, that seem to run together into old photos and super 8 films to create an image and impression.

What I remember was a dad who was really engaged.  As I sit with my daughter, Theory looks intently at my beard and yanks at it with her hands.  I have flashbacks of the same memory, playing with my father’s beard as he would shout “Attention” and pull his lip back so the hair under his lower lip would stand on end as if in salute (not that he was a military man or anything - just for fun).

I have many memories of when I was older, at least 5 or 6, the weekends when my dad would drive my brother and I to Zuma Beach in his Porsche 911t down Kanan Due Road.  We would stake out some sand, build sandcastles, and dive into the huge cooler filled with salami sandwiches.  There are memories of dad in the back yard on the BBQ.  In the pool.  Trips to Kernville’s Lazy River Lodge.

Now, I know there was also a lot of tension in my family and ultimately my parents divorced – but it is difficult as an adult to look back and roll the tape and see that, it just is not embedded in my memory.  There were arguments that I do recall, but there is not a sense of normality that I can judge these against. Did our family argue more often and more intensely then other families?  And I also seem to separate out my relationship with my father from the family conflicts.

All in all, I have pretty pleasant memories of my childhood.  But it is hard to think back and assess my dad’s “parenting style” as it were.  Yes he cooked occasionally and he certainly took me and my brother out to do things with, including indulging me to take dissection classes at the Natural History Museum all the way down near USC every Saturday for several weeks.  But on a typical Wednesday night, was my dad very involved?  I have memories of him singing Row Row Row the Boat to me in bed.   But was this the exception rather than the rule?

I certainly did not have one of those distant uninvolved 50’s dad who was an alcoholic.  My dad was much more nurturing – even though we lived in a very traditional household where my dad worked and my mom stayed home.  But when he was here in NY visiting last he mentioned, kind of off the cuff, that my brother and I are much more involved in the raising and nurturing of our babies – and that really surprised me.

So in the end, any role modeling he provided is really more on a subconscious level.  I don’t really think about emulating my dad or doing things differently then my dad –  because it is really hard for me to remember his “parenting style.”  I just do what comes naturally.  But perhaps this is the way dad’s influence you.  Will Theory remember my parenting style, or just have a general sense of love and security that emulates from the inside, deeply seeded from these experiences that are long forgotten?

I do at times think about my cousin Simon – who offered me a view into fathering later on as an adult.  While I was living in London I would go to my cousin’s house and watch him with his children Eden and Jordan.  There are definite elements of his parenting style and role that I would like to emulate, like really being present, understanding the importance of leisure time, and living in the now and not in the future.

As Tara and I navigate the demands of work and parenting, I wonder what we have in store for us.   There is suddenly a sense of “This is it,” meaning each day is essential now for Theory’s development, for creating lasting memories, for ensuring her early experiences are nurturing and positive.

Oddly enough, my first father’s day is much less about celebrating being  a father.  It is more a day of thinking about what it takes to be a dad, and make sure work and other daily things don’t steal that away.  It is about looking outward at Theory rather than receiving gifts - cus nothing could ever match her giggles.