What Happened When a Dad Became His Son’s Superhero?
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Last night as I was reading to my son he turned to me, interrupted and quietly whispered, “daddy, you’re my hero”. Looking back into his eyes I told him that I loved him, gently kissed him on the forehead and continued to read.
However, I could not stop thinking about what he had said. My eyes began to well and I could feel my throat tense.
At four years old, I was unsure if he understood what having a hero meant. Did his ears fall on these most important words through some fabricated storyline on television? Strangely, when I reflected on this brief moment I tried to downplay the sincerity of his comments.
Lying there beside him, I began to think about my role as a parent and what having a hero meant to me. By no means do I consider myself an extraordinary father. I do what comes naturally and what I think many parents do for their children —- I show him love, feed him, play with him and teach him all the lessons I can about life. What did I do that was so special?
I knew my father was my hero from a very young age. But I have never told him. Through our modest upbringing he did everything he could to make the world for my brother and I exceptional. He was supportive and never missed an opportunity to educate us about life —- how to be kind, respectful, hardworking and humble. He also never missed an opportunity to show us how loved we were, even though we did not speak those words often.
Did my father feel the same way I do about being a parent? Had I made him feel like the father he was and is to me?
Reflecting on my childhood has allowed to me to understand that the embodiment of hero is being extraordinary to your children in the simplest but most impactful ways. It’s not about one grandiose gesture or a single crowning achievement that makes you special in their eyes, but a legacy of the little things —- love, understanding, compassion, patience. The same little things my father gave to me.
In the end I continue to downplay what my son said to me. But maybe it’s not because he doesn’t understand what having a hero means. Perhaps it’s because at four years old, he does not understand what being his hero means to me.
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Originally appeared at The Good Men Project
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