A Father's Day Sandwich

by Bruce Sallan

This is the second Father’s Day without my father and, for my boys, without their mother. Two years ago my Dad died at 90, a content, beloved father, grandfather and husband. This was shortly after my divorce, which resulted in my boys’ mother moving out-of-state and leaving them with me. So, like the proverbial yuppie sandwich, I was in the middle. Having already been a stay-at-home Dad for several years, the transition to being a full-time single Dad wasn’t that difficult. Given the contentious nature of divorce, mine notwithstanding, in many ways it was easier making all the decisions myself and with the boys.

Being a full-time single Dad has its own unique gender challenges. Much is written and talked about equal opportunity parenting and I do believe the courts and society, more and more, embrace male parenting with unbiased support, in theory. The reality, as I’ve experienced, is a bit different. In my neighborhood and area, I am the only single Dad I’ve encountered, on a full-time basis. I’ve met plenty of 50-50 households, but none where “Dad” was primary caregiver. None of this is meant as a complaint, as my boys and I love our lives together, in spite of the occasional challenges. But, women (specifically single Moms) do have better support systems as I’ve witnessed at school events, Starbuck’s during school hours (where they congregate) and elsewhere.

In this regard, with another Father’s Day around the corner, I was struck by an ironic, unexpected problem: who would teach my relatively young boys to remember me on Father’s Day the way I taught them to remember my father? He was now gone. They loved him, mourned him, and my older son even treated him with special reverence at his recent Bar Mitzvah, by lovingly reflecting on his absence. I, too, remembered my father in my words to him, on the same occasion, as I told the story of his courage the day my father died, when he (at age 11) and his brother (at age 8) unselfishly comforted my mother, in the presence of their beloved grandfather’s just deceased body, taking a potential morbid or frightening moment and turning it into a celebration of their grandfather’s life, to the marvel of all who were present.

Now, however, I wouldn’t be encouraging them to make a card for their grandfather or think of a fun present to buy him. No longer a married couple, I wouldn’t rely on my wife to take the boys to the mall to buy me a tie, fishing rod, subscription to Sports Illustrated, or other fatherly necessity. It just feels too self-indulgent to give them my “wish list” or sit with them and help them craft the words to a card to me, the way I just finished helping my son write his many “thank you’s” for his Bar Mitzvah gifts. Unlike the single Moms I’ve already mentioned, I don’t have the same kind of support from my male friends, who all work full-time and who are mostly married and overwhelmed managing their lives.

I’ve often said there are two groups of people in the world: divorced and (never divorced) married. We divorced folk most certainly know about marriage and the traumas and transitions of going from marriage to shared custody, single custody, dating anew, etc. But, our married friends only think they understand our issues. And, here is a perfect example. My solution? I think we’ll go out to dinner at my favorite restaurant instead of the usual debate over In ‘N’ Out or Pizza Hut. Beforehand, we’ll go to the book-store and I’ll give them some time to find a few ideas of a book to give me. I’ll let them debate it between themselves, maybe suggest they call one of my friends, and take the responsibility for this job. In the end, we’ll have a great Father’s Day. We’ll remember my Dad; we’ll eat sushi in spite of their horror at the very notion of eating raw fish, and we’ll continue to love each other as we always do.

A man I greatly respect says the key to happiness is gratitude. With that in mind, please believe me that I’m grateful for every minute of every day I spend with my boys and none of the above mitigates that in the least. A Happy Father’s Day to all of you.


Please visit www.brucesallan.com to contact Bruce and to enjoy the various features his new Web site offers, including a unique Ask Bruce For Advice section, an archive of his columns, contact info, links to his published work, photo galleries, and reader comments, plus much more.