What Didn’t My Dad Teach Me?
When honoring their dad and his life, some kids might start with, “what my dad taught me.” For this dad, it seems more appropriate to start with “what didn’t he teach me?” This dad taught his daughter much more wisdom than one is able to stuff into one brain, good thing I can write.
There’s no doubt this man made an effort to show unconditional love to his family. In fact, that’s the first piece of wisdom I’ll start with. As kids, dad cultivated love between us. Many siblings grow up and grow apart, they don’t have much of a relationship, maybe they even become estranged. Not our family. I didn’t understand how unique the love in our family was until about 6 months ago. Love really is at the core of our dynamic. In our family, we butt heads, have differences, and get annoyed with each other. We disagree, become upset, and accidentally hurt each other’s feelings. Through these challenges and feelings, one thing remains our top priority: to care, love and respect each other.
That leads me into the next gift he left us: respect. Dad taught us to respect each other, yes. He also taught us to respect ourselves and other humans. He had a daughter who developed an eating disorder and body dysmorphia, if you know anything about eating disorders, you’ll likely know that it’s really easy to hide their existence. As a young woman who struggled in the dark with food, body and exercise, I found brief moments of solace in my dad’s comments like, “you’re just right the way you are.” He demonstrated respect for himself through his dietary patterns, movement patterns, commitment to learning, and play. He demonstrated respect for humanity and our earth, too.
He cared for and respected the wellbeing of strangers. When preparing for my wedding, we found a handyman sign down on the side of the road. My mom and I thought, “I suppose we could take it, because it doesn't look like it’s in use.” Not my dad, though. “That’s someone’s livelihood,” he said. One year we cut down a Christmas tree, when we got ready to put it up, we found a bird’s nest in it, “I’m never doing this again. We cut down their home!” He knew life was a gift worthy of respect. He was an honest man who searched for the truth in himself and in creation.
It’s easy for parents to know when kids are lying. As a girl I lied about silly things like if I actually washed my hair in the shower. Dad caught me in my silly lies, but he was very stern about the importance of honesty, always. In middle school he was careful about me and the internet. I wasn’t allowed to have a MySpace, despite how bad I wanted one. Eventually I got one and he found out, he was furious that I’d lied. These small lessons had an enormous impact on the development of my integrity and honesty. I don’t lie, nor do I stretch the truth. If I catch myself in a white lie, I reveal the truth right after, because I know it’s not the person I can live with. My dad cultivated a deep passion for justice and equity in his kids.
As a teacher at the Boys and Girls Club and a Registered Dietitian to many clients, there has been a theme in words to describe me: fair, stern, and kind. These are traits reflected in the wisdom dad left in my heart. Growing up with a brother and a dad like mine, we were constantly taught the importance of fairness and justice. If a poor decision was made [like lying] there was an equal consequence. If there was a task to be done, my brother [Lukas] and I completed equal work. If there were candles to be blown out on a birthday cake, dad was sure to give us each a chance. He was incredibly intentional about fair distribution of resources and communicating that all humans are equally deserving of opportunity and resources. In the same vein, dad found small ways to implement boundaries between us.
From a young age, Lukas and I were taught the importance of individuation. What a challenge! To teach other young humans how to love each other, yet find independence and individuation at the same time. On my 7th birthday I got a barbie radio with a microphone. I was stoked, but of course after opening the present my attention quickly shifted to the next one. I’d moved on and Lukas was still hooked on the microphone. He’d asked if he could use it, I gave a distracted, “no!” Moments later, Lukas was opening the box to use the microphone. “Did Allison say you could use that Lukas? That’s Allison’s present.” In another case, I was 2 years old. Lukas had a stereo sitting near the fireplace. I was messing with it when dad said “Allison that belongs to Lukas.” Little 2 year old Allison ponders the situation and moments later she walks away. “Good girl!” he says. As adults, we’ve held in place these priceless lessons. Dad knew the world treated females differently than males, but he was sure to teach me that I was equally capable.
“You always have the tools to solve any challenge or problem at any time, you just have to relax and find it.” Dad taught me that I am capable of meeting any challenge life throws at me. He equipped me with the love, self esteem, and internal narrative of self belief. Ten year old Allison rode around on her bike in the backyard making up a “silly” song about “oooohhhh yeah, I can do it. I can do anything I want toooooooo, oooohhh yeahhhhh!!” His belief in my strength and capabilities gave me the courage to take risks and know that if things go sideways, or if I run into a situation where I didn’t know what to do, I’d be able to figure it out. You can see that reflected in my life story, so far. Along the way, he emphasized the importance of creating a life where I could be self-sufficient.
It’s hard to know what the heck you want to do for the rest of your adult career when you're 18. I’d say that’s one thing our culture isn’t great at, letting young people explore their interests before pressuring them to lock into a field for the rest of their working life. Regardless, the idea of self reliance and financial security was hammered into me throughout my life. It was annoying as a kid and sometimes it meant making “practical” decisions vs. a more fun decision (i.e. getting a degree I can use vs becoming a yoga teacher). In the end, I’ve been able to be financially independent. Thankfully, I don’t have to ask anyone before if I can buy something and I have job security. Plus, once I was earning a stable income, I was able to become a yoga teacher, too. Financial independence is new for women, this is another priceless lesson from my dad. Finally, he taught me the obvious, you can’t predict the future.
It seems like an easy concept to understand, the future is out of anyone’s control and it’s unpredictable. Really, it’s another one of those concepts that’s “simple but not easy.” Funny enough, I can’t control other people’s actions or what happens in life (like when people get cancer and die). Both of us being type A humans, we seriously struggled with accepting this truth. He used to say, “you can only make the best decision you can with the information you have at the time.” This is true. I can surely control how I respond to life, which yes, does can and will influence what happens next. But, ultimately, there’s very little in my control. I appreciate his vulnerability in that he did not hide that he wrestled with this.
My dad and I had our own lessons to learn separately and together during his lifetime. All in all, we didn’t have much time together, only 28 years. Those 28 years were packed with quality time, laughs, lessons, and wisdom that I’ll carry with me and that will guide me for the rest of my days. Gary, my dad, was a man of few words. He got angry, was sensitive, imperfect, but his heart was pure. It was easy to see past his darkness, because his light was so much brighter. We all have a little darkness in us, I hope to be like my dad and let my light shine brighter than my darkness. Some kids only see what their parents didn’t teach them, but I’m lucky to have a dad where instead I’d ask, “what didn’t he teach me?”
