Daddy, Are You Listening?

Fatherhood

By Patrick Rooney

Jennifer screamed at the top of her lungs. Immediately I reacted. But not with the concern, compassion or sensitivity such a shrill would be expected to engender in an attentive parent. No, in that moment, I was trapped in the role of a businessman scrambling to get the kids out the door to a friend's house so I could get downtown for an early business meeting. My immediate reaction was frustration. " I DON'T NEED THIS, I HAVE TO BE ON TIME FOR MY MEETING."

"What's wrong?" I asked, not really interested in an answer that failed to suit my agenda. Jennifer emitted another incomprehensible wail that I quickly dismissed by telling her that I had no time for "this" and had to get to work. Luckily, Jennifer chose to communicate with me in a more understandable fashion and implored me to "Stop the cab! Stop the cab!" Moments earlier my wife Susan had walked out the front door to an awaiting cab and the start of a five-day business trip. I had no intention of jeopardising Susan's timetable, or my own for that matter, and I continued to get the children's things ready to leave.

Unwilling to surrender to my will, and obstinacy, Jennifer pressed on. "Mommy left her suitcase behind!" This caught my attention, but it was clearly a message I did not want to receive. "Nonsense", I replied, pointing out that I had put the suitcase at the front door earlier and now it was gone. A slight tinge of arrogance rolled over me for about a nanosecond as I thought my challenge with Jennifer was both defined and resolved at that moment. I was wrong. "The suitcase is in the living room, STOP THE CAB," a sobbing Jennifer begged me. Uncompromisingly committed to my personal timetable, I refused to stop the cab and firmly ensconced myself in denial, even as Jennifer pointed to a suitcase sitting in the living room.

"That can't be mommy's suitcase", I uttered, refusing to accept the obvious. Jennifer, five at the time, confessed that she had hid the suitcase so mommy wouldn't go away. Once more she pleaded with me to "STOP THE CAB" but I refused to accept her confession and clung to the fantasy that this must be a different suitcase. Jarred to reality the moment I opened the suitcase, I bolted out the front door just as the cab turned the corner and disappeared.

"DADDY I TOLD YOU AND YOU DIDN'T LISTEN." Jennifer was right. I didn't listen. My five-year old gave me a sobering, yet valuable lesson. Listening to your child means setting aside your agenda and truly being present to what your child is trying to communicate to you. Had I really listened to Jennifer, I would have sensed the urgency in her actions and words and moved quickly to stop the cab. Ironically, listening to her from the outset would have better served my agenda than my steadfast refusal to see beyond my own immediate needs.

Learning is a wonderful thing. It is particularly rewarding, and sometimes humbling, when the source of learning is our children. This episode with Jennifer has made me much more aware of the need to focus on my children when they are reaching out to me. Like fathers everywhere, I continue to struggle with my listening skills, particularly when I am over tired or operating at a heightened stress level. Happily, I catch myself a lot more often than I once did. For that, I thank you Jennifer.

I have chosen to write a book to honour and inspire fathers and recognise the importance and the strength of a father's love. I would greatly appreciate hearing about the experiences and stories of other dads who wish to share them with me. Please contact me.

Oh, by the way, Susan realised she had left the suitcase behind and returned to pick it up.

Patrick is passionate about fatherhood. He is dad to 4 year old Caitlin, 7 year old Jennifer, and 10 year old Conner. He is a businessman with a BA in history and a Master of Laws degree from the London School of Economics in England. Along with their children, he and his wife Susan are currently living in North Vancouver.

(c) Patrick Rooney, all rights reserved