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Book explores way to boost father-son dynamic

To help dads understand themselves and get closer to their sons,  Neil I. Bernstein  hones in on the challenges modern fathers face and offers ways to improve the father-son dynamic. An excerpt from “There When He Needs You.”
/ Source: TODAY

To help dads understand themselves and get closer to their sons, a book by Neil I. Bernstein, Ph.D., with Brooke Lea Foster, hones in on the challenges fathers face in the modern age and offers ways to improve the father-son dynamic. An excerpt from “There When He Needs You.”

Introduction
My father was from the old school. My mother ran our home and he followed her directions. She did the cooking, cleaning, child rearing, and any other domestic chore that came down the pike. He dutifully went to work each day — a nine-to-fiver — and turned the paycheck over to my mom. When I was upset, Mom was first in line to comfort me. Dad was in the background, always there to be called upon, but rarely initiating activities and conversations. A good man, he put others’ needs before his own, but did not provide me with a role model for a strong, emotionally expressive father. Sure, he attended my sports events, chauffeured my friends and me around, and was always willing to help out when I asked. But on some level, I resented his shadow status. I wanted more but didn’t have a clue how to ask for it.

At times, my dad embarrassed me. He was uneducated, wore dated clothing, and had a corny sense of humor. I didn’t have much as a child and was often envious of the things some of my friends had — better baseball gloves, bigger allowances, stylish clothing, and dinner out once a week. I never complained but on one occasion my father picked up on my sadness. During my fifth-grade year, two of my close friends were flying to Florida with their parents for Christmas vacation — I had never been on an airplane. I was invited to join them but had to decline because the trip was too expensive. Knowing I wanted to go, my father put his arm around me and said, “I’m sorry, I wish I ...” He never finished the sentence, because he was too choked up and I was crying. But because I knew how much he felt for me, somehow it cushioned my disappointment.

After I had a son and daughter of my own, I saw a different side of Dad. My mother had passed away before my children’s birth and so he was on his own again. At seventy-seven years old he was crawling around on the floor with his grandchildren, laughing, playing, and having a grand old time. On one occasion, I asked him if he had done that with me when I was little. “Sure,” he said. “You loved to wrestle with me.”

“Did we talk much, Dad?” I queried.

“We mostly played, but you always knew I’d be there when you needed me.”

Dad was right. My father was a man of few words, but he always offered them at the opportune moments. When I struck out in a Little League World Series game, he reminded me that Mickey Mantle had done the same thing the previous year, and no one had laughed at him. Years later, he moved to Florida. Dad remembered the time when he couldn’t afford to send me there, joking, “Now you can come to Florida whenever you want and stay for free.” I laughed then — and I can laugh now, fifteen years after my father’s death. But my heart still aches for my father. I wish I’d had the courage to tell him, “Dad, if I turn out to be as good a man as you are, I’ll consider myself fortunate.”

Let me confess at the outset — I’m not a perfect father. My father wasn’t a perfect father. And I’m certainly not expecting anyone reading this book to be. But I am here to say that it doesn’t take 24/7 devotion to be a better dad. It just takes a little extra work. Like many fathers today, I missed some of my son’s games, worked late several nights a week, and failed to seize a few opportunities to teach some life lessons. Oh, sure, being a child psychologist has helped a little, but there were still times when I felt that I wasn’t as good a father as I might have been. There were the feelings I didn’t express, the times I failed to heed their mother’s advice, and the times I was too indulgent and failed to set adequate limits on their behavior. But I can look back on those tiring, gratifying years and assure myself that I did the best I could. I think my children would agree. No one showed me how to be an active, involved father, and there were no father-son books — although there were some fine dads out there — to tell me how to balance career and family, which feelings to share and which to withhold, and the secrets to making my peace with my own father.

So I winged it. And I got by. I rushed home from work, tried to make time for special events, volunteered in school, and had more than a few awkward talks with my son.

The good news is that I learned from my experiences and my mistakes as a parent and I learned from my clients over the years — and you can, too. Today, as a dad, you face a whole new ball game. The expectations that society and our own families have of fathers have changed: you’re supposed to be actively involved, express your feelings, and balance career and family — as if you’re a kind of Superman and Superdad. Many men are struggling to be the best fathers they can be in the face of these sometimes overwhelming expectations. Some are getting it done, but far more know that they’re not quite pulling it off. Some had good role models, some vowed to do it differently from their fathers, but others are entrenched in a high-stakes juggling act where each day is an adventure in multitasking.

You can be a great father without having to become a superdad. You can learn what compromises to make, learn to express your feelings in a different way, and enlist your wife or significant other as your greatest ally. I know you can because I’ve helped other fathers and mothers accomplish this and get closer to their sons. Thirty years of a therapy practice with more than two thousand children and families have taught me the dos and don’ts of good fathering, how powerful life experiences can shape a father-son relationship, and what sons and fathers really need to form lifelong bonds. There’s a language of feelings to be learned, and although it’s uncomfortable for many men, they can become fluent by taking a few risks and staying the course.

On the following pages, you’ll hear stories of fathers lost and found, of men overwhelmed and underwhelmed, of parents who will do anything for their sons. In each story lies a slice of life, a lesson, sometimes a whiff of sadness at missed opportunities to connect, sometimes a sprinkle of humor. I wrote this book for the millions of evolving dads, and the mothers (and sons) who spend hours trying to decipher: “What is Dad thinking?” These mothers and sons often ask me, Why is it that the greatest man in a boy’s life is also the hardest to be close to?

To help dads understand themselves and get closer to their sons, I decided to write this book.

From “There When He Needs You” by Neil I. Bernstein with Brooke Lea Foster. Copyright © 2008 by Neil Bernstein, Ph.D. Reprinted by permission of Free Press, a Division of Simon & Schuster, Inc.