Big Shoes to Fill

He looks at me with a longing in his soul. He craves my attention, affirmation, and affection. Anything to get me to look at him — usually it’s a physical act. He loves to tackle me, jump on me, tickle me, and wrestle. Sadly, it’s rarely enough. I see the disappointment in his eyes — especially when I’m tired, busy, stressed, or withdrawn.

Can I ever be enough? Probably not. And hence, the disappointment.

I remember being disappointed in my Dad. It grew into full-blown resentment. But it started with absolute worship. Until this week, I never understood how a boy’s adoration could turn into resentment, rage, and estrangement. How can a boy love his father so much, and then 20 years later hate him?

To be clear, I’ve worked through this with my Dad, and I’ve processed my unmet expectations. However, this week I was thinking about my kids — my son in particular — and his expectations for me. Then it occurred to me, that I cannot subordinate my needs for his wants.

My father was young when I was born — merely 24 years old. He was a rebel, still a boy really, and didn’t have a clue on how to be a father. When I look back on my 25 year-old self, I realize I was just a punk. My Dad, like me, was probably still processing his childhood. Add to that financial pressures, learning how to be a husband, and working his tail off to support his family.

My Dad worked long hours and when he came home at night, I ran and jumped into his arms. Once, I was playing with a neighbor boy — I was under three years old — when my Dad came home, I jumped up, told the neighbor I had to go ‘cuz my Dad was home, and ran and jumped into his arms. It is one of our favorite stories — and one of his proudest moments of fatherhood.

I’ve had moments like this with my Smiling Son, but I’ve also failed at times — leaving him in tears. Sometimes his disappointment is palpable, sometimes he is reduced to a puddle of tears, and other times he explodes into a tornado of rage. While he wrestles with his eight year-old angst, I look deep inside of myself. I see that I am not meeting his needs — and wants. I also see that his desire for me runs really deep. It’s possible that even those best Dad in the world couldn’t fill this need.

Every father wants his kid to have the things he didn’t have. This includes love and stuff. Even before my kids were born, I knew that I would be present in their lives. I knew that I would make sacrifices, order my private world, and find a healthy work-life balance. In fact, I’ve left a couple of jobs for the sake of my family. I never want my kids to feel the anger and resentment that I did.

But it isn’t just that…

I also realize that it feels really good to be worshiped. And it hurts me deeply to see their disappointment. I want to please them — I want them to be eternally happy. I want the relationship I now have to last forever. I’m afraid to lose their adoration, their innocence, and their bright optimism. I want this childhood perfection to last forever.

But it won’t…

There is no one on this earth that can fill the need in their souls. That can only be filled by by Someone bigger than me.