Happy Father's Day — The Greatest Gift We Can Give Our Children Is Our Presence

Being a present father has very little to do with being a perfect father.

Today is Father's Day in Australia.

For some, it will mean breakfast in bed, handmade cards, phone calls, family lunches and perhaps another pair of socks.

For others, today will be more complicated.

Some will be remembering a father who is no longer here. Some will have difficult relationships with their dads. Some fathers will be separated from their children. Others will be wondering whether, in the busyness of providing for their families, they have actually been present enough to enjoy them.

Father's Day has made me think again about something I have increasingly come to believe:

One of the greatest things a father can give his children is his presence.

Not presents.

Presence.

There is an important difference.

I have spent much of my life around young people

For around four decades, a significant part of my life has involved youth work, community organisations, mentoring, disability services, churches and charities.

I have met young people from almost every imaginable background.

Some have had tremendous opportunities. Others have experienced disadvantage, family breakdown, loneliness, rejection and circumstances they never chose.

That experience has reinforced something very simple for me.

Young people need adults who show up.

It is one of the reasons I have remained so passionate about mentoring and my involvement with Big Brothers Big Sisters Australia.

A mentor cannot replace a father, and nor should they try.

But mentoring demonstrates something powerful about human development: a consistent adult who listens, encourages, challenges, believes and simply keeps turning up can have an enormous influence on the direction of a young person's life.

If that is true of a mentor, how much more significant can the presence of a loving father be?

Providing is important. But providing isn't everything.

I come from a generation in which being a good father was often closely associated with being a good provider.

You worked. You paid the mortgage. You kept food on the table. You tried to give your children opportunities you perhaps didn't have yourself.

There is dignity in that, and we shouldn't dismiss it.

But somewhere along the way, men can make a dangerous mistake.

We can become so busy providing for our families that we forget to be with our families.

There is always another meeting. Another business problem. Another phone call. Another opportunity. Another crisis requiring our attention.

I know that world very well.

I have spent much of my adult life leading organisations, starting things, fixing things, sitting on boards, raising money, helping people and trying to make a difference.

Those things matter to me.

But eventually every father has to confront an uncomfortable truth:

Our children will not primarily remember our job titles. They will remember how we made them feel when we were with them.

Were we interested? Did we listen? Were we available? Did they know they mattered?

Presence doesn't require perfection

Perhaps one of the greatest pressures we place on fathers is the expectation that they somehow have to get everything right.

We won't.

I certainly haven't.

Being a present father does not mean being a perfect father.

It means being available enough to know what is happening in your children's lives.

It means listening when you would rather solve.

It means sometimes putting the phone away.

It means turning up.

It means apologising when you get something wrong.

It means telling your children you love them, even when you assume they already know.

It means allowing the relationship to change as your children become adults.

And perhaps one of the great surprises of fatherhood is discovering that your children never completely stop needing you.

They may no longer need you to tie their shoes, drive them somewhere or solve every problem.

But sometimes they still need Dad.

Not necessarily for an answer.

Sometimes simply for presence.

Fatherhood changes as we get older

There is something else I have learned.

Fatherhood doesn't finish when children turn 18.

It changes.

Eventually the little person holding your hand becomes an adult with a career, responsibilities, relationships, opinions, successes, disappointments and a life of their own.

The temptation can be to continue parenting them as though they were still children.

But perhaps our role becomes something different.

Less directing. More encouraging.

Less controlling. More available.

Less speaking. More listening.

The relationship gradually moves from dependence towards friendship.

And if we are fortunate, there comes a beautiful moment when we realise that these people we once raised have become people we genuinely enjoy being around.

There are children who don't have this

This is also why Father's Day should make us think beyond our own families.

Not every young person has a father who is present.

Some have lost their dads. Some have fathers who, for many different reasons, are absent. Some have never experienced a stable adult man consistently taking an interest in their life.

That doesn't condemn a young person to a particular future. Families come in many different forms, and extraordinary mothers, grandparents, relatives, carers and others raise remarkable children every day.

But it does mean there is an opportunity for good men to step forward.

A grandfather. An uncle. A coach. A youth worker. A teacher. A family friend. A mentor.

You don't need to pretend to be someone's father to become an important man in their life.

Sometimes you simply need to show up consistently.

That is why I continue to believe so strongly in mentoring.

Faith has shaped how I see fatherhood

My Christian faith inevitably shapes my thinking about all of this.

Christianity describes God not merely as powerful or distant, but relationally — as Father.

And one of the things that strikes me about the life of Jesus is His availability to people.

He noticed people others walked past. He made time for children. He sat with people. He listened. He ate with people others avoided.

He was present.

For those of us who call ourselves Christian fathers, that presents quite a challenge.

Our children shouldn't only hear about our faith.

They should experience something of it in the way we love them.

Grace. Patience. Forgiveness. Encouragement. Generosity. Presence.

None of us will demonstrate those things perfectly.

But perhaps the objective was never perfection.

Perhaps it was faithfulness.

The older I get, the more valuable time becomes

When we are young, time feels almost unlimited.

Later in life, you begin to understand that it isn't.

There will be a last school drop-off. A last time they ask you to carry them. A last family holiday while everyone still lives under the same roof. A last Father's Day with particular people sitting around the table.

We rarely recognise those moments when they happen.

Life simply moves forward.

That is why presence matters.

You cannot store time away for later. You cannot earn it back. And you cannot compensate for every missed moment by buying something.

The people we love need some of our time while we still have time to give them.

So, this Father's Day…

To the fathers reading this: enjoy today.

If your children are young, get down on the floor and play with them.

If they're teenagers, keep talking to them — even when conversation sometimes feels like extracting information from a hostile witness.

If they're adults, ring them. Have lunch. Ask what's happening in their world and actually listen to the answer.

If you have made mistakes as a father, don't spend the rest of your life simply regretting them.

Where possible, repair what can be repaired. Say sorry where sorry needs to be said.

Relationships can change.

And if you know a young person who doesn't have a positive male influence in their life, perhaps consider whether you could become one.

You don't have to be extraordinary.

You have to be consistent.

What will they remember?

One day our careers will finish.

The organisations we built will continue without us — or disappear altogether.

Someone else will sit in our office. Our titles will belong to somebody else.

Most of the problems that seem enormously important today will eventually be forgotten.

But hopefully there will be people who remember that Dad was there.

He listened. He encouraged me. He believed in me. He loved me. He showed up.

That seems to me a legacy worth pursuing.

So to fathers, grandfathers, stepfathers, foster fathers, mentors and the good men who have chosen to stand beside young people who needed someone:

Happy Father's Day.

And perhaps today is a good day to remember:

Your presence may be one of the most valuable gifts you ever give.

Darryn Keneally OAM

The Culture Report — Faith, Family, Business and a Life of Purpose