The Yay: My dad.

I don’t have a whole lot of memories of my dad growing up.

Was he around? Yes.

Was he present during that time? Probably not.

Did he work a lot? Hell yes.

He had a stressful, demanding job. Many might say important. He had a fascinating career. He did a lot and accomplished a lot.

As a parent, I can now appreciate this — how much he gave of himself to his work, and then how much it took of him coming home to pull things together.

Was my dad the kind of parent who enjoyed our rambunctious energy of creative play?

Probably not. I think we mainly annoyed the shit out of him — which I now also understand as a parent.

But did he do his best with where he was at given everything else going on in his life?

Absolutely.

Something else I can now appreciate as a parent.

As a child we can’t fathom our parents as people – – with lives, and hopes and hard times.

I often wish I could go back in time and meet my parents as early 20-somethings.

Now, to have my children, and to see my dad interact with them as a grandfather, is nothing short of a miraculous gift.

He plays and engages in ways that never cease to surprise me.

That I can’t recall from my own youth.

I’m forever grateful to have this time with him and to see him as so much more than the box I put him in with childhood wounds.

We are all so much more than we let ourselves — and others — be.

I want to set everyone free from these self imposed boxes. Myself included.