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Illustration by Catherine Chan
As I watch my four boys work at being parents – two sons and two sons-in-law – I realize how much better they are at it than I ever was.
I rejoice in that and take great comfort. Looking back, I think I was a better father than my own father was. That is the way it should be.
I find no fault with my own father and applaud him for what he was able to do. After escaping from Stalinist USSR, my parents made their way through Europe – Poland, Germany and finally Belgium – as displaced persons. My brother was born in a barn in Germany, and I was born in a refugee camp in Belgium.
When my family arrived in Canada as refugees, we were welcomed warmly at Pier 21. My parents worked hard, went to church, made sure that their children understood the importance of a solid education and to always be frugal. They built their own house in Montreal working with family friends and were mortgage free by the time they were 40 years old. What values, what a lesson! But aside from providing the basics, there was not much room left to develop and nurture their children.
We were free-range kids. My parents were always working, during the day and at home in the evenings, so that left no time for play, no toys, nor spare money. No one was available to read a bedtime story and tuck me in; everyone was exhausted. I knew I was loved although no one ever said that. Discipline consisted of the “stink eye” or worse should that “eye” be tested.
I learned to be a parent from my parents, so I focused on education and building the physical comforts of home. I had to learn to buy stuffed animals for my sons, to read a bedtime story every night while tucking them in, to give them a kiss and tell each one that I loved him. When one felt maligned and mistreated by the world, we would play the game of “Who loves you?” And each boy began recounting the names of their immediate family and extended relatives. After reciting more than a dozen names they would feel more secure.
They have taken those lessons and improved them. And I revel in how they are raising their kids. They are wonderful empaths.
Talking to a three year old to explain “boundaries” is not easy, nor is playing with someone who may not understand rules. Stimulating a child’s imagination as part of the developmental process, allowing and encouraging synapses to connect, is not easy.
Jamie sets the gold standard for being a father as he knows how to talk to his bright six year old who no doubt will be a CEO one day. Talking to a preschooler and being able to play with them is an incredible talent. When Oona challenges Jamie, he knows how to reason with her and even to talk her off the ledge. He also knows how to play with her, as a peer, whether it be in her sandbox or in the park, making up stories on the fly.
I watch Michael handle six-year-old Edie’s occasional meltdown, as he asks her to “make her mad go away.” She struggles with the concept of self-discipline as all kids do but she is on the right path. How marvellous is that! Izzie, precocious as ever, challenges her dad with an innocent question – “Why do I have to listen to you?” To his credit, Michel painstakingly explains the chain of command, including the role of teachers. Michael’s children challenge him routinely and he rises to the occasion.
Sean, with two girls who soon will be teenagers, gets full marks for never having raised his voice in anger, calmly explaining the rules and expectations of the home and school, and sticking to them. Athletic, he works with them as a parent and coach in cycling, skiing, gymnastics and basketball. Sean’s girls are strong and independent, as they should be.
James is a newly minted parent. I marvel at how easily the two prime tasks – looking after the wee one and supporting his wife – come naturally to him. He is there throughout the night, hauling bottles of milk to care for his infant son, taking on all shifts with his wife. That also includes all the requisite diaper changes.
I doubt that my father ever changed a diaper. He learned his behaviours and roles from his parents as I learned and adapted from mine. Thankfully, things change. All spouses pitch in as needed, working as full-time partners, fully engaged.
Now as a grandparent, I am more than pleased that my children have learned and improved upon my behaviours, drawing on the same values that my parents showed and taught me. I am pleased that my grandchildren – all eight – are well set up to be successful, however, they define success and regardless of gender. I applaud their fathers as I also applaud their mothers.
Alex Beraskow lives in Ottawa.