The Everyday Father

What if your greatest spiritual practice is simply showing up? This reflection reclaims the sacredness of time spent doing nothing together.

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Just Announced: Dr. Tom’s Wellsprings Spirituality & Resilience Retreat Sunday, June 29

Join me at this “tiny” retreat for adults of all ages and all faith backgrounds (including none at all). Slow down, connect more deeply and walk away with practical tools to grow your daily happiness and resilience.

Register here.

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This past weekend, we buried my father-in-law’s ashes right next to where he buried his wife’s ashes nine years ago. Unlike Elvie, who died in a sudden accident, Rom took his time making his passage out of this world. The care he received in his final years was deep, long, and heartfelt. Thanks to his team of kids, grandkids, and his companion, Lynn, he got to squeeze all of the juice out of this life, and die peacefully with family by his side.

That way of dying makes for a gentle, breezy kind of gathering on a Sunday afternoon on a Wisconsin cemetery hillside. There was a sweetness and a spaciousness to it. In between the traditional prayers and the non-traditional songs (John Denver, Bruno Mars, Elvis, Louis Armstrong), I found myself drifting back over the years of knowing this man and his family…my adopted family.

The Moscosos’ wedding picture from 1962, paired with a photo from their final years together.

I saw Rom’s limitations. I believe I knew him in an unvarnished way. But for all his blind spots and shortfalls, you couldn’t help but notice the big thing that Rom got right. Whether it was the personal or the professional, you could count on him. Rom was always there. He was home for dinner, and often for lunch. After dinner, you might find him writing down lyrics to songs with his wife for later sing-alongs, or watching the television with his kids at the foot of his bed. Unlike the typical Asian immigrant stereotype, Rom made plenty of space for recreation with his family. Every summer, they’d spend a couple of weeks fishing and golfing at their cabin in the Northwoods. Every winter, they’d flee from the Northern Wisconsin tundra to spend a week or two in their Florida timeshare playing tennis and golf, and eating piles of crabs. In the later years, he’d drive hundreds of miles to spend holidays with his kids and grandkids.

It must have been all that hanging out with each other that paved the way for the final gift he gave his family in the last years. As his health diminished, he let himself be cared for by them. I don’t mean that in any kind of saccharine or pious way. I mean it like this. Given his investments of time and presence over the years, Rom’s family caring for him, and Rom letting himself be cared for, was just as natural as falling off a log. Let me explain.

The superpower in my wife’s family is their ability to simply waste time together…cooking, playing mahjong, watching television, and making allowances for faults and foibles where necessary. So Lisa would fly up and take her caregiving turn. Sometimes there were medical chores, but mostly, it amounted to doing what Moscosos do best: just hanging out with him. She always came home grateful. She counted that time as sacred…like a precious family heirloom that no moth or rust can destroy. At his funeral, my nephew Henry described how he spent his summer helping his diabetic grandpa sneak ice cream and McDonald's. He also helped him with setting up his nightly dialysis. Henry described how, like my wife, he was enriched by time with his Lolo.

A Father’s Day Reflection

Here on Father’s Day, I want to notice how Rom’s investment portfolio paid out for him, as well as for his kids and grandkids. The investments I’m talking about were measured out in large chunks of time—not necessarily quality time—just time, years and years of time and consistent presence. For dads of any age, it’s not so much our coaching that they need. It’s not so much the lessons we teach them, or the enrichment opportunities we pay for. The most fundamental thing we can offer our kids is our presence…our unhurried, relaxed presence, and plenty of it.

Dialogue and Discussion Questions: 

Longtime SMC readers know that “the Dialogue” section of this article is set aside for a good conversation over a cup of coffee—with a friend, with a group, or just with yourself! As always, feel free to share your reaction or reflection in the “Comments” section below.

• Who regularly gives you the gift of presence? How do they do that?

  
  

• Who gave you abundant presence in your childhood? Your adolescence? Your young adulthood? How did they do that?

  
  

• Did any of the people who provided you presence exit your life? What was their leaving like for you? How did you get through that transition?

  
  

• For whom do you give intentional presence? How do you do that?

  
  

• This article described my father-in-law as an imperfect man. Despite your imperfections, do you see your presence as a gift to those for whom you give it?

  
  

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Save the date! "Wellsprings" Spirituality & Resilience Retreat: June 29th

Join me at this "tiny retreat" for adult seekers of all ages and spiritual traditions—or none at all. You'll walk away with practical tools to boost your everyday happiness and resilience quotients. We’ll slow down, connect and explore ancient wisdom and contemplative practices rooted in Judeo-Christianity and modern psychotherapy.

Date: Sunday, June 29th

Time: 1–4 PM CST

Location: Mercy Conference and Retreat Center in St. Louis, MO

Cost: $25

Register here

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Please share with the SMC community your thoughts and/or reflections in the comments below.