A Poem for Father’s Day

If ten years ago, someone would have told me that I would be a father now, I would not have believed it. I’ve always been a late bloomer—in physical development, in the realm of romance and in the area of family life. Yet here I am, a husband and the father of a three-year-old boy. I can provide little advice, except this: being a parent means surrendering control of your life to others. It’s as simple as that; your individual life ends, but a new, collective one begins.

And so on Father’s Day, I offer these words in the form of a poem. This is what being a father means to me, as I learned from my two role models—my dad Francis and my stepfather Bill.

Being a Dad

Being a dad
means improvisation.
It means peeing in the sink
when your wife and son
occupy the john during
the nightly ritual of bath time.

Being a dad
means admitting
you don’t always
know the answers,
can’t figure out the solutions,
don’t have a fucking clue
how to stop that kid from crying.

Being a dad
means living with less—
less money, less time,
less sleep, less sex.

Being a dad
means doing
your best every day,
but accepting the failure
built into the equation
of marriage and parenthood.

Being a dad
means loving
your child
even when
you’re exhausted
and when your
patience is tested.

Being a dad
means being grateful
for the gift
of being a dad.

©2019 Francis DiClemente

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