Excellent article and perspective. I recently lost my Dad at 87 yrs. He had been my mentor all my life. I'm 59 now with a 23 yr old son of my own who needs my mentoring, but I fall incredibly short of my dad who was literally a mentor to many throughout his life as a clergyman and psychologist in private practice. This article meant a lot to me. I'm sorry you didn't have a father growing up, but clearly you are an outstanding father to your son.
Faith liberates us to trust God. Our greatest fear of death can often be "not being there for those we love." But God will still be there.
My own journey as a Dad included realizing that after my kids matured, I had not completed my duties by rearing them for life outside the nest. We have a new, different relationship that involves me as friend and trusted adult guide (i.e. "Mentor.")
But now I am on a third leg of my mentoring path before I pass from this world -- grandfather. That, too, has its own nuances that I am still discovering. I will tell you about it sometime if you like, but I'm sure you are already imagining what that entails. :)
No, Mr. Coleman, you're not being overly dramatic in your concern for leaving your family underprepared for your demise. You're doing what you're supposed to do. Do not let yourself be confounded by intellectual doubt over possible projection.
Remember, please, that you began this process when a child was born, and that every moment since, has carried the possibility that it might be your last.
I tell you this, based on the deaths of both of my foster-fathers and my own experience of cardiac arrest and nearly-unable-to-be-resuscitated; even the way we face our final moments, is an example that leads the way for those that live on after us. We shall do our utmost to fulfill our duty, a duty that changes in aspect over time, as fully as we can, to our very last breath, and to set an example of dying with such honor and dignity as that moment may allow.
This is our duty as Men, and you are simply doing your duty.
Excellent article and perspective. I recently lost my Dad at 87 yrs. He had been my mentor all my life. I'm 59 now with a 23 yr old son of my own who needs my mentoring, but I fall incredibly short of my dad who was literally a mentor to many throughout his life as a clergyman and psychologist in private practice. This article meant a lot to me. I'm sorry you didn't have a father growing up, but clearly you are an outstanding father to your son.
Thank you for the kind words David. I'm sorry about the loss of your father but I'm glad you had many years with him as a great father and mentor.
And it sounds like you're doing well passing on this positive legacy to your child. Keep at it and stay resiliant.
Faith liberates us to trust God. Our greatest fear of death can often be "not being there for those we love." But God will still be there.
My own journey as a Dad included realizing that after my kids matured, I had not completed my duties by rearing them for life outside the nest. We have a new, different relationship that involves me as friend and trusted adult guide (i.e. "Mentor.")
But now I am on a third leg of my mentoring path before I pass from this world -- grandfather. That, too, has its own nuances that I am still discovering. I will tell you about it sometime if you like, but I'm sure you are already imagining what that entails. :)
I can't imagine being a grand father yet...I'm still adjusting to this stage lol
Thank you Adam. Great article.
My pleasure
Thanks brother! Much. You articulated exactly what has been going on in my head regarding my son. Lord bless you.
God bless you too
Stop making me cry!
Mom of 23 year old
No, Mr. Coleman, you're not being overly dramatic in your concern for leaving your family underprepared for your demise. You're doing what you're supposed to do. Do not let yourself be confounded by intellectual doubt over possible projection.
Remember, please, that you began this process when a child was born, and that every moment since, has carried the possibility that it might be your last.
I tell you this, based on the deaths of both of my foster-fathers and my own experience of cardiac arrest and nearly-unable-to-be-resuscitated; even the way we face our final moments, is an example that leads the way for those that live on after us. We shall do our utmost to fulfill our duty, a duty that changes in aspect over time, as fully as we can, to our very last breath, and to set an example of dying with such honor and dignity as that moment may allow.
This is our duty as Men, and you are simply doing your duty.