"Reflections on Fatherhood"
Ollie Stocker
Sunday, June 20th 2004

Good morning,. Congratulations to all the fathers on this special day to recognize you and all you do as a parent.

In reflecting on fatherhood, I'd like to share some memories of my dad, some experiences as being a father. How my relationship with my God was shaped by my relationship with my parents. Finally, I'd like to share the experiences of fatherhood through the eyes of one of my clients.

I would like to begin my talk with one disclaimer. First of all, this will be a biased talk. It will be biased because I grew up in a relatively normal family, with four other siblings. My parents remained married until my father died in 1978. I knew and loved my father well, as I knew he loved me. I've been blessed with an incredibly supportive, loving father-in -law ,Cliff Gower. A man of deep faith who has been a mentor and model for me these past 20 plus years. Some of our best times have been having deep theological discussions when we've been trying to catch fish in Leech Lake. I have a brother who took over the family farm at 15 when my father died. He continues to get up at 4:30 every morning to milk the cows. He will go to great lengths in order to participate in school events for his four children. I've had several uncles , all diary farmers, who have likewise modeled the qualities we traditionally associate with fatherhood. I am blessed to have been surrounded by role models of loving caring fathers.

My perception of fatherhood might be far different if I grew up in a broken home with a series of fathers. If my father had been abusive or chemically dependent. If I would have grown up with no father.

So, how did father's day begin? After a little research on the Internet I found that the most common and widespread story of Father's Day began in 1909. It seems that a Mrs. Bruce John Dodd of Spokane Washington came up with the idea of Father's day while listening to a Mother's Day Sermon . She wanted a special day to honor her father, William Smart. He, a Civil War Veteran, was widowed when his wife died giving birth to their sixth child. Mr. Smart then raised the newborn and his other five children by himself on a rural farm in eastern Washington State. As an adult Mrs. Dodd realized the parental sacrifices her father made and thought fathers to should be recognized. She approached her minister who then preached a sermon on appreciating fatherhood.The idea gained momentum and in 1966 Lyndon Johnson declared the 3rd Sunday of June as Father's day.

One of my credentials for speaking on fatherhood is that I have been an alcohol and drug counselor of 30 some years and have helped clients address the pain caused by dysfunctional relationships with fathers. But I think the most credible credentials I have is that I had a father and I am a father.

My father was a dairy farmer in southern Minnesota. He served in WWII. He had an 8th grade education, he worked hard his entire life always putting the family's needs before his own. The down side of dairy farming is that there was no end to work. The upside was that we were together a lot and worked together. I spent hours with my dad, doing chores, making hay, milking cows, squirrel hunting, mushroom hunting. Dad was a big fan of Hubert Humphrey, I can remember a special time, sitting on a bale of straw with my dad when I was 10 years old ,listening to Hubert Humphrey on the barn radio, after milking.

In my mid 20's I was going through a sorting out period in my life. I came home and told my family I was dropping out of seminary. My family had been very proud of me and were very disappointed with my decision . I knew my dad didn't fully understand my choice but he was never critical. As I was getting ready to leave the house my dad shook my hand, he had really big hands. He said do you need anything? Do you need money, a car a place to stay? I remember feeling his love and support even though he didn't understand.

My dad had big hands from all the hard manual work that comes with farming. I think of his hands every Easter season when we sing "This Is Holy Ground". I get through the first few verses ok, but when we get to the verse " these are holy hands" I always think of his hands that were strong, supportive and loving and I choke up. And thats ok because he was a very special man.

I remember that dark night on December 17, 1978 at the VA Hospital, in Minneapolis. My dad had developed complications after major surgery. I was in the waiting area waiting to hear an update.The Doctor on duty , came to where I was sitting. I expected him to tell me what miraculous procedure they were about to perform to save my dad. Instead he said; "Mr. Stocker I regret to inform you that your father has just died". Immediately I had a vision of huge Roman columns being totally smashed and crumbling. Immediately I felt a huge hole in my life like I had never felt before. My father is still with me in my memories of him and the lessons of love, dedication, selflessness, dependability that he taught me.

My own fatherhood began on a stormy night on July 19, 1988 at Abbott Northwestern hospital. After some 30 hours of prolonged labor, Oliver was born. I had wondered how I would react to seeing him for the first time. I didn't have to wait long . Upon seeing him I was overwhelmed with feelings of love and joy that I had never imagined. I didn't know where this tidal wave of feelings came from but i was overwhelmed with a happiness I had never felt before. That overwhelming joy soon came in handy. I remember taking him how from the hospital with all these fears of how to take care of him. Feeling totally responsible for this fragile little baby. Those many sleepless nights walking him when he had trouble sleeping. I still vividly remember the microwave clock blinking 3:30 AM.

I had a premonition of fatherhood two months before he was born. In a dream , I was standing in the delivery room holding a new baby boy. At that time, we didn't know the sex of our baby . As I was holding my baby I said out loud I wonder what we should name him. Immediately in front of my I saw my deceased dad say "name him Oliver" and I saw the name in big bold letters.

I became a more seasoned father on February 19, 1990. This time I was prepared with my books, magazines, snacks for an expected long delivery. We walked in Fairview South dale hospital at 7:30 pm and in little over an hour. We had a little baby girl, Mary. And again the tidal wave of overwhelming feelings of love for this precious child.

Having children, radically changes the priorities in your life. All of a sudden decisions are made relative to what is best for them. Parenting becomes job one!!

Having children has engaged me in life, has broken me out of my comfort zone, and continues to challenge me to grow. There's a need for volunteers in the nursery, teaching Sunday school and I am there because I see a value in nurturing my children and other children. The Cub Scout Pack is folding because there is no leader, and all of sudden Iım full time cubmaster. There's a school referendum, and all of a sudden I'm knocking on doors, and making telephone calls. Oliver and Mary come home form school, and I can tell something is wrong, but they won't talk. How do I approach them in a loving way that will allow them to feel safe to talk about what is bothering them?

Parenting is teaching our children the skills of living as they are ready, encouraging them to engage in life,and being available when they need us.

I remember helping Mary learn to ride her bike without training wheels one Fall day. She had a little fall and didnıt want to try any more . Next Spring she asked if we could try it again. I took off the training wheels, held her seat, and ran along side her. After short while, I could feel she had a good sense of balance. I said "do you want to try it by yourself?" She said "yes." I let go and she took off smiling from ear to ear with a new sense of confidence. She had learned one new skill, had made it through one rite of passage toward adulthood, and gained a new sense of freedom.

Last summer at the lake, Oliver asked if he could take Mary sailing in our little sailboat. Now they are both good swimmers, and Oliver has learned the basics of sailing in scouts. But he also has a reputation for turtling the boat. But they both wanted to go. So I helped them rig the boat, and took a picture of them as they sailed out of the harbor. I have it in my office and often think of it as an analogy for parenting. We love, and nurture our children and then we help them to set sail for their own destinations. Oh by the way they had a good sail, Oliver only had to jump out of the boat once to retrieve his hat which the wind alledgely blew off.

I believe strongly that our relationship with our parents creates the environment/framework/foundation of how we relate to our God... the ontological root of our being whether that be a masculine, feminine, or non gender image. I think we come to know God's love for us from our parents, care givers, teachers and significant people in the early developmental years of our life.

Some 20 years ago I was going through a dark night of the soul period in my life. My career was going so-so, I was unsuccessful in finding a satisfying relationship, and I felt distant from God.

I went on a 9 day silent retreat at the Cennacle in Wayzata. My spiritual director gave me the assignment of daily listing 2 to 3 examples of how I had experienced my parents' love and immersing myself in that love. She also directed me to slowly read and reread Psalm 139 daily for half an hour a day. I soon begun to experience Godıs love and presence for me in a whole new way. I continue to be enticed by Godıs intimacy in this Psalm. "You know when I sit and when I stand ...even there your hand will guide me, your right hand hold me fast...you formed my inmost being; you knit me in my motherıs womb." My relationship with God has been radically grounded in my relationship with my parents.

I think of my experience of going home to announce that I wasn't continuing in seminary, and though my family was disappointed. My dad was there very accepting and supportive akin to the prodigal son coming home and being supported by his father.

I mentioned earlier that I have been a a substance abuse counselor for some 30 years and during that time have helped clients address the pain caused by dysfunctional relationships with their parents.

About a year ago I was asked to do a consult with Derrick, a 13 year old male on our locked psych unit. Prior to meeting Derrick I reviewed his chart. Derrick had a history of depression, ADHD, violent acting out behavior, periodic suicidal ideation, and not doing well in school. He was hospitalized on this occasion because he had recently threatened to kill his teacher, had attempted to break his sister's arm, and had hit his mother. After reviewing his chart I wondered if I should wear flack jacket before meeting with this alledgely dangerous young man.

Derrick presented as a soft spoken, very sensitive young man. He was not at all threatening, in fact seemed eager to have someone talk to him. He told me how at times the anger in him builds up, and he feels like he is about to explode. He said pot helps him take the edge off so his anger doesn't get out of control. During our session he told me about many things, but he seemed to have a lot of anger toward his father. He told me his father abandoned he and his mother when he was 18 months old, and that he had never seen his dad. Derrick knew his dad's full name, and where he lived. He thought of visiting his dad some day, but was afraid . He didn't know how his dad would respond to seeing him after all these years. Derrick was also afraid that the anger would overcome him and that he would attack his dad for abandoning him as a child. One of Derrickıs last comments to me was, " I just want a dad that loves me". I talked with his mother, the assigned psychiatrist and I think we developed an appropriate treatment plan to help address his anger issues and his pot smoking. But I walked away haunted by Derrick's final statement about wanting to have a father.

I'd like to leave you with some questions for reflection.

How has your relationship with your father affected your relationship with your father?

How can you as a father be more present to your children?

How do we as a society help to father the Derrick's of the world who have no father or an abusive father?

How do we as individuals help father the Derrick's of the world with whom we come into contact?

"If I fly with the wings of dawn and alight beyond the sea,
even there your hand will guide me, your right hand hold me fast...
You formed my inmost being; you knit me in my mother's womb".