This is love, yo (a Poem for my kids – but not yet)

18 07 2017

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I recently posted this to twitter and reposting it in an easier-to-read format.

I wrote this about being a dad to two teenagers. Maybe you’ll recognize something familiar.

This is love, yo

Me on the chair

Reading a book

With you at the water’s edge

It’s ok

Pretend

I am a stranger

Yes, you may be too old for this

Me, too

But this is how it has to be for now

One and three quarters eyes on the page

A quarter on the base of your feet

The only thing I can see in the bottom periphery

As I try to maintain attention

On the biography I am reading

Because this is love, yo

And certain to the touch

Is the odd teenage reaction

Of bending your neck so I may receive the back of your head

Sweaty, matted hair

As a surrogate hug to say good night

I will continue to comment

“Is that all I get?
Because this is love, yo

Encapsulated by a love that is beyond romance

As if it existed before you were born

Before I was born

When the universe was born

Streaming through our bloodstreams

Like quarks and stardust

Crossing paths again

For the first time

In 7 billion years

Because this is love, yo

That maybe only a parent can understand

Though understanding is a falsehood

Does an addict understand the pull of the drug?

Does a mother goose understand the urge to attack an innocent runner

Passing by knowing that

Time is finite?

This is love, yo

And when I pull up that phone for a photo

For the thousandth time

I know the rolling eyes

And guttural objections

Are only a way of expressing what is a disturbance in your day

And painstakingly

Here you are

Because I had to only endure a slight glance at a camera with a flash

That my mom never adjusted as I grew taller

For a handful of photos that all ended at my bottom lip

And now I can’t help but chronicle every glimpse in passing

Though a smile from you in just one of them

May cut down on my need

This is love, yo

And when the trying turns to hope

And the talking turns to prayer

And the seeing turns to memory

All we have is what we had

And all we had is what we were

To each other

Me to you

You to me

Us to each other

Because this is love, yo

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Riding in Cars with Budding Adults

4 10 2016

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My 8th grade daughter was talking with me tonight in the car. It seems like the car rides are when the best conversations with my kids happen. That’s part of the reason I never really mind schlepping them from one place to another (though that’s my secret).

She asked me if, when I was in school, I ever had any friends that I thought might be gay. I said yes. I didn’t ask her why because it seemed like a pretty transparent question.

We talked a bit more about it, maybe for 5 to 10 minutes with zero uncomfortableness. I told her how different it is now than when I was in school if you are different – not necessarily easier but definitely it seems a bit more acceptable, at least where we live.

Luckily, for me, she is not a boy crazy 8th grade girl. Her friends are over the house right now as I write this playing Adele on the piano and planning a silly dance routine to videotape with their iPhones. I love that this is her experience right now and am very grateful for it.

I didn’t press our conversation any further than she wanted to take it at the time, (something I learned from first experiencing the nuances of teenage-parent relations from her older brother). However, later in the evening, I walked upstairs to her room before her friends got here and told her that I just want her to know that I don’t care who she ends up loving as long as she is happy and a good person.

It was sort of funny because she knew I would do that. She confided she had a crush on a boy a year ago or so but, to use her words, “I have no idea what I’m going to be like.” That is one of the greatest gifts a dad could hear – the freedom your own child expresses when facing her future – a moment free from the never-ending mound of expectations that accompany so many children transitioning into young adulthood.

This is something I am learning to give myself, finally, and if, decades earlier than for me, I can help make my kids think that their sense of self is not something that is given but rather is a given, then I can forgive myself most of the many, many mess-ups I make along the way.

A world of people who feel good about themselves would be a much different place than the one we live in today.

Until next time,

Marc





A Tribute to Fathers who “Work It”

21 06 2015

You don’t have to be a father (or even a male) to be that “go-to” person for someone in your life – a special someone, a friend, relative, co-worker – even a stranger. This Father’s Day – acknowledge and celebrate that part of you and feel proud!

As a tribute to my own father and others like him, I am re-posting an article I wrote for Working Mother magazine 2 years ago. Happy Father’s Day to all those dads who are really working it! – Marc

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Picture courtesy of my favorite daughter.

WORKING FATHERS

By Marc Kaye (as written for Working Mother – June 2013)

This Father’s Day, I’d like to pay tribute to Working Fathers – those men who help many a working mother. In particular, I’d like to take this opportunity to thank my very own working dad – let’s call him Bernie (which is coincidentally his name).

Now, Bernie is no Mike Brady. He’s no Ed Bundy, either. Bernie is just “Bernie” and as such, he’s good at imparting valuable lessons to his kids by just being himself (Lesson #1).

In all transparency, this is not a man without his flaws. His propensity for dismissing expiration dates on everything from barbeque sauce to antibiotics as simply “a suggestion” coupled with his ability to nestle within each other different size plastic containers into what can only be described as a cheap man’s version of Ukrainian nesting dolls leave something to be desired. However, beyond that, if you were going to design the perfect dad, you may say my sister and I hit the jackpot.

Let’s not beat around the bush (lesson #2) – when we hear “working mother”, working is often an adjective, referring to as “having paid employment.” When I refer to “working dad”, working is the noun as in “the inner workings of being an engaged dad.” In the former, the focus is on the mother who also works. For the latter, stereotypes often assume the reverse – the worker who also parents. Not so with my dad.

It is interesting to read so much over the past few years about the increasing roles of dads when it comes to raising kids, helping with homework, managing the household and generally being an equal partner with the mother of his children. It seems that society, though still with a ways to go, is catching up to my dad and others like him who have been doing this for the past 40 years. Yes, indeed, these men exist and they are no less “breadwinners”. They, like many women are faced to do today, have also made deliberate choices that were hard, gut wrenching, mature and necessary at the time. These men are unassuming, quiet, reserved and focused on their families. It’s about keeping things simple (lesson #3) and as balanced as possible (lesson #4).

I have learned, as a dad myself, that this is truly hard work. The “father” in “working father” never goes away and that makes the “working” part so important because it’s not a job, it’s a life.

It’s hard to live up to Bernie. This is a guy who does everything on his own. He had a full time job, had a family, was a true son to his in-laws next door, not to mention his own parents, cut the grass, helped build our house, and can seriously fix almost anything. I mean, please…can I catch a break? (After all, this is about me, right?). I can barely get my son’s Lego Star Wars Commander ship to stay together. I know I shouldn’t compare myself to anyone (lesson #5) but I mean, really – c’mon!

As good as a dad as this guy was, he is an awesome grandparent (along with my mom, his partner in crime – and by crime, I do mean the crime of slowly killing me as I watch my kids get away with everything, and I do mean everything, that was punishable by death to me and my sister as kids). My kids really looks up to him – particularly with respect to his corny sense of humor that only the Catskills set could truly appreciate. This is a guy who says what he does and does what he says (lesson #6).

So, on this Father’s Day, let’s take a moment to celebrate Working Dads – whether in the office, at home, driving the bus or taking time to write a silly blog post – these are the guys that are “working it” hard and taking the “Father” part of “Working Fathers” as seriously as the “working” part. (That could have been better worded – Lesson #7).

We love you Dad and to all the Father’s out there – Happy Father’s Day! With that, I’m going to get out of here before I overstay my welcome (lesson #8).








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