Fathers and Sons

"Why is it so hard for you to communicate with your Father?" My mother has put that question to me more times than I care to recall. My usual, thoughtless response is, "Because the man has such a tenuous grasp on reality!" This glib retort has often resulted in a painful, swollen knot on my exceptionally thick skull, put there by the woman who brought me into this world. For some reason, I find my mother quite easy to understand and get along with. My father, however, is another matter, and my efforts at amiable conversation often go awry. Our conversations generally start amicably enough, but the next thing I know, we are critiquing each other's lack of manners and wondering if the other would be better suited to the primate lock-up at the San Diego Zoo. Congenial exchanges of ideas seem next to impossible, and I am confused and upset by the whole predicament.

I am not totally ignorant when it comes to the cause of this situation; I have read studies in such renowned periodicals as Readers Digest, Good Housekeeping and Men's Health. I have even forcefully digested Psychology for Dummies, a modern guide to relationships between fathers and sons. These publications speak of developing compassionate, caring, loving relationships with dear old Dad, and working toward understanding what makes him tick, or why you have developed a tick because of him. I must also learn to appreciate his uniqueness and tune in to how he expresses his love for his children. This is sound advice; I can understand the common sense these articles provide, and their logical approach to regaining common ground.

I can't blame the problem on a bad childhood, or contrary parents that didn't care about how their kids turned out; our parents were great! I can honestly say that I always knew that I was loved in our home. My father made the effort to teach my siblings and me everything he could in a thoughtful and precise manner. He was not afraid to admit that he was not up to snuff on a particular subject. Dad would either educate himself through "book learnin'" or bring in a recognized expert to fill in the blanks. You would think that a man with only an eighth grade education would be limited in what he could pass on to his kids. Not true with my father, he studied books on science, math and spelling on our kitchen table to further his knowledge. We knew, without a doubt, that education was an important issue to both our parents.

When I graduated high school and decided that college was not for me, Dad was disappointed to be sure. He barely skipped a beat before sitting me down and stressing continuing education through all other available avenues. He then brought me, full time, into the family business and began to teach me the art of managing a trading post "by the seat of your pants". It wasn't long before Steve returned from law school, with three degrees in his back pocket and a highly developed opinion concerning business management, among other things By then I had earned my first (unofficial) degree in small business management and tradingpostology from Professor Duke. Since opinionated characters are common in our family, it took Steve and me a while to amend our philosophies and work together. That, however, is another story altogether.

I recently found myself in a nose to nose stand off with my own son, Spenser, concerning a matter we had differing opinions on. I was about to emphasize my point of view when my wife stepped between us and deflected my assault. As she backed me up against the kitchen sink, I found myself in another nose to nose stand off. I usually find this situation quite stimulating, but somehow this time was different. "Why is it so hard for you to communicate with your son?" she asked in a tone demanding an immediate and thoughtful answer. A number of smart retorts flashed through my mind, but the look in her eye caused me to hesitate. All that I could say was, "I don't know!" "Well maybe you should figure it out; you have the same problem with your father," she said.

After much soul searching and thoughtful meditation, I realize that only I can make amends, and diffuse future problematic situations. I know for a fact that I do not want to continue down the same antagonistic path Dad and I are traveling. And, I am adamant about maintaining good relations with my own son. I find the thought of a poor relationship with Spenser too heartbreaking to bear and can now see how my father must feel. I may have to refocus this repressed energy in a new direction though; I am sure that it is unhealthy to hold the nastiness inside. I think Steve may be ready for the next level in his trading post training. I guess that it wouldn't hurt to step up the pace and present a more aggressive lesson plan. He's a hard head anyway!

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