Digital Father Podcast

Difficult Phone Calls

I got up early this morning (as I would imagine many did, considering the “fall back” of the clocks, and found Sunday Worries and :Whoops in my Bloglines.What struck me was this quote:

This is one of those times I wish my Dad and I spoke. As it stands, I don’t have anyone in my life who I feel I can talk to about business things… whose opinion I would value nearly as much as I would my father’s.

How many of us have said the same thing? Just last week, while working on renovating my basement, I stopped to call Dad. Dad is a carpenter, and built half my house. I trust his opinion, but felt guilty calling. It seems the only reason I call is to pick his brain about something construction-related. I can’t help thinking he’s seen the parallel, and may resent it.

As I stand in my kitchen blogging, I wonder if that’s enough. Should that be the basis for a call? Is it worth it for us to get together, swallow our pride, and say “I love you/ I hate you, and my call today is strictly selfish.” What is the worst outcome of that phone call? A click on the other end? A tirade that ends with you clicking off on this end? A half-hearted reconciliation that doesn’t take?

I was given an opportunity a few years ago by my uncle. He found me after 20 years and invited me to visit with him across the country. I told him that if I was to come, I didn’t want to see my Dad, because we hadn’t spoken in years. He responded “that’s OK- we don’t talk to him either.” That visit was the beginning of a healing process by which the entire family began reconnecting and speaking. There is still much history, and we don’t all agree, but the consensus is we are all better for being connected, and we’re growing, changing, and working to be a better family.

It’s none of my business, Rich, but what have you got to lose? Swallow your pride, for the good of your kids and their college, and make the call. “If the response you get is ’sure, you call when you need me’ then tell him ’screw you’ and hang up. But consider opening with the fact that, as you said, “I don’t have anyone in my life who[’s] … opinion I would value nearly as much as I would my father’s.”

I know it’s not simple. I know that crow tastes terrible. I also know that, if I had to, I would do anything for my kids. This is a big decision, and it involves your life’s work, your family, and their future security. If the person you trusted was any other person, you would call.

Love to you.