The man in the mirror

I look into my bathroom mirror while shaving this morning and see my father's face; not the benevolent father who teaches me to bait a hook with a red wiggler as a 5-year-old little boy or the nurturing father who cries at my wedding. I see the harsh, unforgiving father who yells when I throw a baseball onto the roof to retrieve as the ball rolls back toward the Earth and is disappointed when I earn a 3.14 GPA for my Bachelor of Science degree at Black Hill State University. I see the face of a man who screams when I laugh too loudly and tells me that, "When you sing, you sound like a turkey cackling."

I place my razor on the counter, balance my weight by placing my hands on both sides of the sink and stare at the person I no longer recognize. How did I become my dad? As I stare into the mirror I see a wrinkled face, faded blue eyes and hair that is no longer there. I also recognize the soul of a man who never achieved what life has to offer.

My dad was a smart man. He knew a lot about a lot, loved to read and offered trivial information about little-known facts. Dad also loved my mom with all of his heart. My dad seldom if ever offered an, "I love you," never hugged his kids and sarcastically commented on one's success. My dad never cried. Dad and I attended his mom's funeral together; I cried, he did not.

I continue looking into the mirror as my eyes begin to moisten. What have I become? Am I the man my dad wished me to be? Have I achieved all life has to offer? How often do I say I love you to the ones I love? Do I support the success of people I care about or do I put them down and belittle them to make myself look better?

This internal conversation becomes too heady. I shake my brain in an attempt to empty my thoughts, rub my bald head and wipe the tears from my eyes with my towel. The thoughts continue.

I need resolution. I continue to think while getting dressed and wonder, "Is life all-inclusive?" Do I have to be successful or a failure? Must I be loving and benevolent or cold and mean? Was my father uncaring and unnurturing or kind and loving? Might he be both?

My dad died two years ago and my mom passed shortly after. Mom and Dad both had dreams - to move to North Idaho, to fish the Coeur d'Alene River in the summer, to tightly hug their grandkids and to watch the snow fall on Christmas morning. My dad never lived this dream and my mom only experienced three months of this dream before her death.

Days before my dad died he told me, my mom and all of his doctors that his only wish is to fly-fish with his son one more time. He also told me that he loved me and gave me a hug. My dad never had the opportunity to realize his wish to fish with his son one more time but with his hug and kind words of love, will fish with his son for the rest of my life.

Maybe the man in the mirror is OK? Maybe becoming my father, I have achieved all life has to offer? Maybe Dad is offering a gift in the mirror. Possibly Dad is saying, "We all do the best we can with what we have and possibly, we should accept the good we do, correct our indiscretions and understand our failures."

Life is not yes or no, black or white, right or wrong. Life is gray. Sometimes one succeeds, often one fails. The reward is accepting the successes and learning from the failures. I think Dad would be proud of me finally understanding this simple philosophy.

Send comments or other suggestions to William Rutherford at bprutherford@hotmail.com or visit pensiveparenting.com.