Fatherhood As Told By Parking Spaces

I have been a father now for a little more than nineteen years, and in that time I have seen a lot of change in my life. One of those I came to realize only this evening as I strolled across my lawn towards my Dodge pickup to add oil to it. This is something of another story which I may tell at a later date. Tonight however I want to talk about the passage of time and my life as a father.

When my bride and I moved into the house we currently live in, she had just given birth to our first child, Micah. At that time, we parked both of our vehicles inside the comfort of a closed in garage, something of a first for both of us. This was very good given that neither of us had been parents before, and we did anything and everything to protect little Micah from the elements.

Years passed, and we added two more children; April followed a short time later by Noah. It was during these years that we started to accumulate various toys, bicycles and a sundry other things that come with children. Of course these things needed to be stored somewhere, so I began to park my truck outside of the garage, leaving a space for my bride and children to be comfy and cozy getting into our minivan, and again staying clear of the elements.

Understand me; I never minded scraping my windshield or facing the cold and rain to allow my family the comfort of just getting in the vehicle without having to face those things. It is what a husband/father is supposed to do, and chivalry is not dead, not as long as I breathe that is. But it wasn’t too long until we needed to do something about the sleeping arrangements in our house, mainly to keep two boys from hurting each other. So as Micah entered the teenage years, my bride (ever industrious as she is) built another bedroom in our garage. This is when no one parked in the garage. It was full of stuff gathered from almost twenty years of marriage and all the blessings our children had received from friends and family. So my bride joined me in parking outside of the garage.

This went on for many, many years until one day Micah turned sixteen. It wasn’t too long until I would come home from work to find his car parked in my space outside of the garage. More than once I would instruct him to park on the circle drive, and being the obedient son that he is, he would do so. But it wasn’t until my baby girl began to drive that I realized that for the next several years I would no longer be parking up close to the house, but it was my turn to move to the circle drive.

It was on that trek towards my truck tonight that I realized what it means to be a father, and that is to give of yourself so that your family can have it a little bit better. To be the one to take one for the team, to show your family that you do in fact love them. I’ve heard it said that people don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care. I think it can safely be said also that your family doesn’t care how much you know, until they know how much you love, and love after all is the key isn’t it?

It’s an amazing thing to be a father, and with all this passage of time, I realize that it won’t be long until I reach another father stage, that of grandfather. (Although that one can wait a bit longer as neither of my kids is anywhere near ready to marry yet). Who knows where I’ll be parking by that time? But I do know this one thing, I will continue to give of myself to my family because they deserve that from me, and truthfully I’m glad to do it.