Some of my friends don't even know their fathers. Most people feel like their dads just don't measure up. Being a father must be hard. A mother (in the beginning) gets respect by default - she was the one who went through pregnancy and birth. But it's almost as if dads have to earn our respect.

You think no one prepares a woman for motherhood? Imagine being a dad. What training do these men have, anyway? Especially older men. For so long there was no emphasis on a man being a loving father- showing affection, spending a great deal of time with the children. My grandpa R. is described as a man of few words who worked very hard. Sound familiar? So, somewhere between the age of 12 and 20, we see these people as they really are. Men. Not fortresses of strength and wisdom, but men -- some a little more vulnerable than others. It's a tough transition as a kid.

I remember once, running through a sticker patch in our suburban neighborhood, falling to the ground in agony from the thorns in my little feet. I couldn't bear to pull them out myself, so my friend yelled for help. My dad had just come home from work. Still in uniform, he strolled down the sidewalk to me. The stickers were gently removed, with a little giggle on his part, and I ran on my merry way as if nothing ever happened.

Fast-forward eighteen years to a dinner at my parents’ house after I had been home from Romania for barely a week. It was clear my dad did not understand why his baby girl felt the need to trot off to Eastern Europe, nearly wrecking her career in the process. His exact words were "People need you here in your own country. You could've done that here!" It was the greatest thing I had ever done and he seemed to think I had betrayed him for it. His words fell on me like a storm. Nothing compares to that disconnected feeling I had. He finished his dinner as if nothing ever happened.

Fathers. Dads. My daddy. Where bridges fell, we built new ones. I don't know how, but I suspect it has something to do with my own failures and my own hope that people will see past those flaws to who I really am.

A few years back I was sitting in the living room of my parents’ house, having a conversation with my dad, about life, travel and such. It was a bit strange, both of us adults now, discussing my childhood in matter of fact tones. As he was bent over fiddling with his shoes he said something like "I know I wasn't there for you kids when you were little. I should have been. I really regret that now, but you know I really love you. I thought I was doing what was best at the time, but I was wrong." His voice had cracked a little and I could see the regret on his face.

Every negative story I'd ever been told about a father seemed to come to a screeching halt in my head when my daddy sat there in front of me, apologizing for not being better for me and my brother and sister. For all the toughness, for all the absence, he had still emerged as my hero, providing a security for me - unmatched by any man I have ever known. The apology was accepted, and any thoughts of him "not measuring up", evaporated in that room.

I look at my brother, sister and I, and I know that we are blessed far beyond what we deserve.

Think back to the best memory of your dad. Remember how much you adored him? Now think about a child you love -maybe a niece or nephew, maybe your own kid. Think of how you would do anything for that child, how your love for him/her amazes you. Multiply that love by a million. Know that's how much your dad still loves you. No matter what. ...No matter what.

Penny René
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"Baby brown plays with Frankenstein at the top of the stair
Daddy's catching a flight to who knows where
Another kiss and tell on the white house lawn
Give her one kiss and she'll be gone"

Penny René
-From Holiday
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