For those who haven’t yet seen DreamWorks’ new release “How to Train Your Dragon, Part 2” and are planning to see it, you might want to bookmark this for another day. I promise not to recant the entire story.

 

Another Father’s Day in the books, another day filled with mixed emotions on several fronts. If my relationship with my kiddos doesn’t remind me daily how far I’ve yet to come as a dad, certainly this annual “celebration” sticks out like a sore thumb. So many areas I could do better…so many moments I’ve let slip away…so many “laters” that turn into empty promises. Yes, this annual celebration kicks me in the gut on that front alone. Then, to deal with my own abandonment issues, my day turns to thoughts of my dad…and of course, my mom. But today I had a beat on it…the movie I was to take my son to yesterday fit better in the schedule today. I thought, “if nothing else, I can break the doldrums that have tended to set in the past few Fathers’ Days.”

The day started off like every other Father’s Day I’ve had the past few years…text messages…this year, starting as early as 6:45AM! Each one well received…but each one hitting that stone façade I’ve so eloquently designed from the past. Never an empty reply…but always…always a protective wall to not let my emotions get the best of me.

With my daughter out of town, it was just “me and the boy” – a boys’ weekend…we accomplished only a little short of nothing! Actually, that’s not entirely the truth. I spent a good bit of Saturday cleaning up, catching up, and prepping for the week ahead. Those that know me well know that this is a very unusual activity for me. Today, the work continued while my son played his games, watched TV, and played with the dogs. Oh sure, we’d check in every now and then…but our euphoria on some of these boys’ weekends tends to be the silence. I sat on my bicycle trainer for the last 40 laps of the NASCAR race, and had him check in with me every few minutes to make sure he was ok. Once that was over, it was time to get ready for the show.

One ICEE later, we donned our 3D glasses and shortly the movie was in full swing. For those who’ve never seen either of these two shows, the big tough Viking leader, aptly named “Stoic” has a runt of a son who, by many accounts, is also aptly named “Hiccup”. A scrawny kid – he and dad never really quite get each other. Hiccup lost his mother when he was just a baby – to a dragon attack…or so he thought. But in part 2, he happens upon this masterful dragon rider who recognizes him as her son. Not long after, dad, in pursuit of his son who had gone on a very dangerous (and unauthorized) expedition, finds Hiccup and tries rescuing him. But Stoic is set back – 20 years in fact – when he finds his long-lost wife. They reunite and begin scheming ways to bring peace back to the land.

Seeing this couple on the screen, and the childhood that Hiccup had missed coming forefront before his very eyes, was quite touching. I couldn’t stop my mind from thinking about the days I watched my parents and their love affair. Dad, whose strength was surprising to those who saw him as weakened by his physical handicap, would not necessarily be seen as stoic. But when the moment called for it, he’d go from being the cut-up of the party, to being a very stern and serious leader. Mom was every bit the sweet peace-keeper who made everything go at the house…whether it was keeping us fed, cleaned, or just overall physically well, mom did her job better than anyone I knew. And some, amazingly, would mistake her sweet demeanor – the sweetest – as a potentially weaker soul. That, anyone who knows her can attest, is the furthest from the truth. My parents…both of them…were/are amazingly strong people. They’d give you the shirt off their back and do anything to get a smile – but never, ever –did they do anything that might hurt another person.

When I think back to my teen years, I remember really, honestly, trying to do what I could to make sure I wasn’t on dad’s bad list. Life was much easier if you could just keep him happy. To say I was a people-pleaser is probably short-sighted. If anything, I just wanted to be a dad-pleaser. Ha. Mom was easier in that respect. And if she got upset, she’d just tell dad and poof, there you were again in jeopardy of getting on the bad list!

In the movie, Stoic is helping protect his son during a battle when he takes a fatal blow. That instant, my chest swelled and my eyes began to tear. I was thankful I was in 3D glasses. Stoic had been really working hard on getting Hiccup trained to take over the kingdom and Hiccup was having nothing to do with it. But there we were, in the heat of battle, and Hiccup thrust into a role he didn’t feel prepared for.

Why was I emotional? Simple. I saw it coming. I saw a replay in my mind of where I’ve allowed myself to get stuck at times. Dad passed when I was pushing my way through the late teenage years…the years where a boy turns into a man and learns how to survive. And there I was, thrust into a role I wasn’t prepared for…or so I thought.

As they send Stoic’s body away in a traditional Viking funeral, Hiccup echoed some of the very thoughts I’ve held these past 26 years. In so many ways, I’ve not lived the path that I would’ve set before me if I were doing things like Dad. Oh sure, I’ve not been a bad guy, or done evil things, but my path was rarely a straight line from point A to B. I was all over the place trying to find my way. Hiccup says to his father’s lifeless body that he’s sorry for not living up to the expectations that his dad had for him, but that he’d do his best to make him proud. I remember saying almost that very thing over my dad’s casket.

With the war raging behind him, Hiccup looks to the friends gathered ‘round…who were now looking to him for leadership, and says “A Chief protects his people.”

We are a great family…a crazy family…a funny family…but we are a protective bunch too. And nothing, in my opinion, has shone more true than that over these years. Dad may not be with us, but his protection still permeates all of us in how we treat those that are precious to us.

My dragon? Metaphorical of course. My overriding fear? I honestly think it’s a fear of not being enough. In this “prove yourself” mantra I’ve let guide me since dad’s death, I see constant reminders around me daily of where I’ve failed in some area or another. Sure, I’ve succeeded at many things. But it’s sure easier to point out failures, isn’t it? I barely escaped A&M with a degree. It took an awesome GMAT score and my awesome power of persuasion to get into a reputable MBA program. I took a job before I finished the degree (but finished the degree later), and then job-hopped a bit hoping to one day have my shot at my own business. That shot arose, I took it, and it, too, failed. I’ve gone through bankruptcy, divorce, and post-divorce dating…none of which I’m too fond of. I’ve made some great memories, sure…but there’s a whole lot of life I would’ve preferred to script another way.

But then again, this was my dragon. And were it not for me learning how to train my own emotional brain, I might still be mired in the funk that resulted in the immediate aftermath of each of these failures. That, though, was not what I learned from my parents. Dad always believed that things would work out alright…no matter what. Anything…I mean anything could happen, and he’d just be real cool…ha…kinda stoic, if you will. Mom would keep her head down and keep pushing ahead…nothing set her back. If you can’t learn how to train your own dragon from those two examples, I’d say you’d need professional help.

I won’t claim that the dragon doesn’t still rear its ugly head now and then…sure it does. But head down, push ahead, stay calm, and know everything will be alright…that’s the best way I know how to train my dragon.

The question is, have you trained yours?

Happy Father’s Day, Pops. And Mom, Happy Father’s Day to you, too. You had to assume that role without a say in the matter, and I’ve got to say, you did a hell of a job. I love you both, dearly!

It’ll all be good.

No matter what.

Tim