Today is another Sunday and I am reminded of the first Sunday of this month when my family deviated from our Sunday routine.  Just like what happened in my blog the previous Sunday when we attended mass in a new church, we went to the Cathedral instead of the usual chapel inside the village. 

It was quite a big deal for me because it was my father’s insistence on having his haircut that morning that led us to the Cathedral at the heart of the city.  A haircut when in fact he just had it a couple of weeks ago and his white hair had not grown that much anyway (well at least in my opinion).

My father had been living with us for a few months now ever since he suffered an asthma attack.  An earlier mild stroke that left him limping on his right leg did not force him to change the routine he had for years.  He was resolute in living alone in his house at the center of the city to enjoy all the freedom he’s been accustomed to.  

It all changed one morning as he went about supervising a small project at the third floor of his property.  According to him, he already felt heaviness in his breathing as early as eight o’clock but only decided to seek assistance from one of his tenants a couple of hours later.  Instead of going straight to the hospital less than one kilometer away, he instructed the tenant to bring him to my house, which is a good 15-20 minutes drive from his house.

My initial reaction was to rebuke him about his decision to come all the way to my house at the other side of town only to take him back to the hospital close to his house.  But I later realized that my father was afraid and just needed me to be there for him.  Moreover, he must have felt that there was no way to contact me as he already tried desperately to call the whole morning but to no avail (I imagine panic must have contributed to this).

The incident made him more acquiescent that led to the current living arrangement.  My wife and I speculated that as he recovers and gains more confidence, he would want his independence back. 

There were already a number of instances prior to that Sunday wherein he made some demands to go to certain places and do certain errands.  It was becoming clear that he’s feeling well enough and slowly becoming restless.  But for now, let us leave those stories - our (mis)adventures as he regains his confidence to venture by himself in a future blog.  

Giving in to my father’s wishes did not come easily as we interpret them as merely excuses to go out of the house.  However, it occurred to me that I may not always have such opportunity to bring him where he wants to go.  I was just probably afraid it might become too frequent to handle.  Anyway, he and I can always come up with certain compromises on how and when to do them should some conflicts emerge.

To accommodate his wishes to go to his barber, we went to the Cathedral and found it overflowing with people.  The kids, my wife, my father and I content ourselves standing on the stairs leading to one of the three or four Cathedral entrances.  We literally “heard” mass as we saw neither the priest nor the altar. 

The Cathedral was just across the street from a park where a children’s playground was recently added.  So while my father was having a haircut, the three kids had a blast with the animal statues. 

It was particularly exciting to our toddler as he’s been learning to sing “Mr. Rhino…got one tail, four feet, twelve toes” much to our amusement, especially with his cute rendition and all.  He proudly got on to each of the animals: the rhino, the tiger, the giraffe, the elephant, the zebra, but not the monkeys as they were literally on a tree, while the crocodile, tortoise and eagle were fenced and beyond reach.

I thought we would run out of things to do as it might turn out to be a long wait.  But what a relief!  It really takes so little to please these kids.  I guess it was the fact that they were all there together to enjoy the rides and each other's company that made it fun, plus a chance to each demand from me a lift onto the back of the statues.

The baby happily watched us from her mother’s lap, while the latter got a chance to play catch up with a couple of long-distance friends over the phone.  My father was of course happy not only because of his new haircut, but I guess also the importance he must have felt when we worked around our schedule to accommodate his needs (or whims).

The new week witnessed our toddler talking incessantly about the animal statues as he vividly recalls the giraffe’s long neck and the elephant’s big ears. It was the same excitement when he first rode a horse in a merry-go-round and the many other “firsts” that never fail to remind me how inconsequential the price I had to pay for the joy my children brings me.

Thanks in no small part to my father’s insistence and my decision to give in that the day became one of the family’s best Sundays.  It turned out that giving in to make someone happy is actually a gift we give ourselves.

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There are probably those among us wondering why on earth would someone want to spend time cleaning after a child’s mess that could range from the mildly annoying toys scattered all over to the stomach turning mishaps during potty training?  It appears counter-intuitive because fathers used to be secured in their designation as the breadwinner of the family and were happily oblivious of the fine points of child-rearing.  Back then life is definitely simpler.

The tide has turned and the norm seems to portray modern dads to be engaged in both providing for food and shelter as well as nurturing of children.  Many factors contributed to this shift, and modern moms gaining opportunities to work and earn is among the most important ones.

But for me, expecting dads to share child-rearing responsibilities is a welcome trend.  I can see many benefits not only to children and mothers, but also to fathers as well.  On the personal level, men can count on the following benefits in getting more involved in raising kids:

1. We become better men.  This is not just the psychological high we associate with being loved and loving, and being needed and needing someone in return that we feel like better persons.  According to recent research findings, men do not merely endure child-rearing activities (i.e. because we had to).  There are actual physical and cognitive rewards or benefits derived from taking care of a child (and the wife). 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/bingramos/ / CC BY 2.0

The sight, sound and smell of babies trigger biochemical changes in men that results in increased motivation, heightened problem-solving skills, greater resilience and enhanced stress-handling abilities.  These explain improvements seen in relationships and in work performance among fathers.  To know more about the scientific bases of how dads become better men, you can start with this news article.

2. We secure the continuance of our family line.  Again, this is not merely perpetuation of our genes by fathering a child.  The likelihood of a child surviving and succeeding as an adult is dramatically improved with the support of a nurturing father compared to an absentee one.  Remember that the environment plays as important a role as do genes in our offspring’s success.

3. We become happier men.  It could be a function of being better men as explained in #1 above as we perform, able to handle stress and relate with others better.  But the mere scent of a baby, the kiss goodbye or the “hey Papa” hellos elicit instant pleasure and lightness in spirit that I don’t need any explanation or convincing that being close to our kids brings joy to men. 

One of the keys to living a happier life is the maintenance of at least two good relationships, i.e. with someone a generation older and another one of a younger generation.  These relationships do not necessarily involve parents and offspring, as it holds true with non-blood relations.  Therefore, when we are able to do it with our own kids, we are hitting two birds with one stone as we foster better current and future relationships down the line to our grandchildren and generations beyond, and we ensure the maintenance of our family line at the same time.

4. We understand ourselves better.  I don’t know if it comes with maturity (or living through a mid-life crisis), but as I began to see myself in my kids’ physical attributes, tendencies and behavior, I also began to fully accept my own biases, strengths and weaknesses. 

Genetics is indeed a wondrous thing, and so is the social influence into a person’s personality.  With understanding comes the conscious effort to commit to become better with what I have for my own and my family’s sake.  Who then is best to coach kids through life?  It’s none other than their parents if and when they have arrived at understanding their own selves first.  Being with our children facilitate such understanding as they mirror us in so many ways.

5. We get a second chance.  This could mean getting many opportunities to be kids once more and play ball, lego and computer games in the guise of teaching or spending time with the kids (wink wink).  Or it could also be another shot at something we’ve wanted to be or do but never got a chance, or did so but blew it.  This desire to live our dreams through our kids is a powerful drive, but can lead to disastrous results if not handled right.  While it can be good to want our kids to be better than us, it has to be in the context of what they are and what they want to be (and not necessarily what we parents want them to be). 

http://www.flickr.com/photos/gideon/ / CC BY-SA 2.0

So with the above caveat in mind, let us welcome our second chance at getting better results, whether at playing Nintendo or taking on the path towards virtuosity.

Lastly, don’t despair if you haven’t seen some of the above benefits accruing on you.  There’s a learning curve and it may be slower in certain people than others.  In my case, I only fully appreciated all these in the second batch of our kids and that came seven years after our eldest daughter was born.  Lucky me I got my second chance.

I won’t be surprised if there are other rewards or benefits of being a father that I failed to cover here, so please let me know about them.

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