In honour of Father’s Day I wanted to write some awe inspiring words of celebration in honour of the father of my children; an Ode to Fatherhood if you will.
But I won’t.
You see, I am the partner in the parenting of the children that we were blessed with. Like all partnerships, there are negotiations and boundaries. As parents out there may have noticed, parenting together takes negotiations on a new level. It takes understanding of each others’ values .and limits. Basically it is partnership on steroids.
Since my husband and I are in the middle of negotiations in our couple’s partnership to see the redistribution of tasks and expectations for the next stage in our lives now that our children are pretty grown, I am not in a mind frame to put him on a pedestal.
But no matter my mind frame, I do recognise that being a parent is part of each of our identities though. I also know how proud I am of him in putting his identity as a parent ahead of his identity as a person with a medical condition.
In retrospect, our parental identities affected how we both dealt with my husband’s medical situation and emergencies. It is clearer to me now that our children are grown and that things have calmed down, how strong my husband’s identity as a father was to him and still is.
First of all it gave him incredible energies to face terrifying situations. He made sure the kids did not feel his fear or any insecurities. It also pushed him to fight for his life.
In every situation where the kids were present, he would reach for them and connect. It would happen coming out of seizures and surgeries.
The most interesting time it happened in front of me was when he was intubated and coming out of a coma. He had had such a long and strong seizure that they had to induce a coma to give his brain a chance to recuperate. We were waiting for him to come out of the coma in the ICU. As he regained consciousness, he saw the kids and opened his hand that was tied to the bed due to the tubes in his throat so the kids could put theirs in his.
First it was his daughter. He held her hand gently and looked in her eyes.
Next, his son came up. As he took his dad’s hand, his father squeezed his hand and egged his son to do so too. My macho man.
Maybe that was his way to let the kids know he was okay.
When facing his fourth and sixth surgeries he was asked to choose between the possibility of losing certain abilities or death. He chose quickly. He chose his children. He went for the surgery.
I am thankful to have seen how, for both of us, our parental identity was so important it gave us unthinkable energy to deal with extreme health issues. I am sure that had we not had the children we had, we would have been more overwhelmed by the crazy medical ride my husband actually had to navigate.
It seemed easier for both of us to focus on the kids instead of our own fears. That part of our relationship never had to be negotiated. My husband made things as normal as possible for the kids as did I. He had spoken up to others to make sure the kids were on everyone’s radar.
I am left to wonder what role the sense of identity has with the way one deals with illness. In my husband’s case his identity as a person with a deadly condition came after his identity as a father. His reactions and actions support that statement.
As much energy as our identity as parents gave us, I wonder if those whose identity is mostly founded on their medical condition can learn to identify themselves in a different light. I wonder if finding a solution to their medical situation would cause havoc on how they relate to the world if they are no longer who they thought they were.
I am thankful that we try to have a sense of all our realities and that as a family we try to encourage the ones that are positive and building.
May all who surround you encourage all of your best and positive identities.