By, David Decoteau
We don’t get the spotlight or applause…we build the sets.
Week in, and week out, the limited hours of our life are traded and transformed into paychecks which are electronically deposited into our bank accounts and then automatically subtracted from our bank accounts by utilities, cell phone bills, and the other necessities of life. After about 30 years of this process, a guy could wonder, “What’s it all mean?” Why am I doing this? Who am I doing this for? Who am I ? Do I count? Do I matter? Or am I on this planet to turn hours into dollars that I never see or enjoy in exchange for no glory and at best an adequately attended funeral service when its lights out.
We don’t need a day. If we did, we are ill equip for this gig. The thanklessness is the reward. It took me a long time to realize it, but being a rock against which the universe throws it’s worst, is reward enough… in itself.
We go work in the rain, when no one wants to.
We open the doors for those who can’t.
We battle the night and dark scary places, so others don’t have to.
If you want to be first (hell, even second, third or even top ten) then the father gig, ain’t for you. If you don’t fancy endless compromise, and crushing selflessness…maybe staying single, or at least childless, is a better path.
But if you can really embrace putting yourself almost dead last, taking the mockery of pop culture (and sometimes your family) and only having the knowledge that you did your best to give to others as your only reward…then this father gig might be for you.