Fathers and Sons

When I worked for Jewish Family Service in Houston, I dealt with all of the substance abuse clients. A young, handsome lawyer stands out. Because he was a recovering alcoholic who had fallen off the wagon several times, he devoted his practice to lawyers dealing with substance abuse. I don’t remember, but I assume he helped men and women retain their law licenses. He also set up a recovery center for lawyers; a safe space for them to talk. I admired what he had accomplished in spite of his roller-coaster life. He spoke about being a disappointment to his father as the best explanation for why he succeeds and then sabotages his accomplishments.

His father was coming to town. I asked him if he was willing to bring his father in for his next session. He said yes. I can still picture the father: a big man with a kind face. He smiled broadly as he sat down. I asked him: “How do you see your son?” The smile turned to glow. He raptured on about how proud he was of his son. I turned to the lawyer and saw utter amazement written across his face. “Do you hear your father,” I asked. That hour changed lives. The father realized he had to share his feelings. The son grasped he had held on to childhood impressions to the point of personal devastation. For me, it was an introduction to father/son relationships.

Here in South Florida, I worked with a successful engineer. He had two sons. The older son worked for him. Although the son did amazing tech dynamics for the firm, it was never enough. I asked the father, “What is the problem?”

It took more than a year to get the answer. “My friends,” the father said, “have sons who are surgeons and big-time businessmen.” So, he didn’t see the son for his tech accomplishments, he saw his son as a disappointment. His son’s tech-savvy didn’t give him bragging rights at the yacht club. Consequences: The father lived in a constant state of disappointment. The son moved to the west coast to be away from his father’s negative energy.

Baseball. Football. Any kid sport. I worked with a father who coached his son’s football team. The mother said he would scream at his son from the sidelines. The son never got it right. The son was either too fast or too slow. Never okay. The son, as a young adult, moved emotionally away from his father. He met and lived with a young woman who told him every day what he did wrong.

I guess what I’m trying to say is – if we teach boys to talk, share their feelings, we would have a better, kinder world. If we could teach fathers to see their sons as individuals, not as a second chance to get their own lives right, we would have a better, kinder world. And, fathers and sons would communicate (communicate their love and appreciation).