When I was about 12 years old I opened our refrigerator and took 2 of my dad’s beers and slipped them into my back pack. I said goodbye to my parents and went over to my friend’s house a couple blocks away for a sleepover. I thought if we could each drink a beer really fast we might see what it was like to be tipsy. I was at her house for about an hour when her mom said I had a phone call. It was my dad. “Abigail, did you take 2 of my beers?” I was stunned. How did he know?! And how did he know the exact number?! “Yes,” I replied. My dad said I needed to come home right away and bring the beers back. I brought them home. He seemed mad but also a bit confused. I’m 36 years old now and have talked and laughed with my dad about this situation many times. He says he was angry and disappointed when he discovered the missing beer, but that when I immediately admitted to him that I was guilty he had no idea what to do. He was shocked. My dad had a teenager and a toddler in the home at the same time. He was likely like the rest of the dad’s in this world; totally wiped out and run ragged. And here was the cause of his stress stealing the cure for his stress! But in that moment my dad saw what he had been working for all those years. He had succeeded. He had made an honest person out of me. Not a perfect person, but an honest person.
Fast forward 24 years. Now I am married and have a son. I watch my husband father our son with his entire might. I have seen him sweat, cry and beg for mercy. I have seen him fall out on the couch after trying to get our son to sleep like he had just gotten a knuckle sandwich in a bar fight. I watch him tell our son for the 156th time that the stove is too hot to touch, that the stairs are not a safe place to jump, that closet shelves are not safe to climb on. I watch him step in when I am at my wits end and take our son to another room to give me a break. I watch them hug and kiss and laugh and dance and run. He is making an honest person out of our son. He shows our son the beauty of life every day. It’s the first word out of my son’s mouth in the morning. “Dada.” And it’s the first word he says when he hears keys in the door at 6pm. “Dada.” Dadas, dads, daddies, fathers, papas, pops. You are making honest, respectable, good people out of our children. Thank you! This month is for you.
Abby Theuring, MSW
