| Parenting:Even fathers have their demons | Send to a friend |
| Sunday, 29 January 2012 08:14 |
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By Josaya Wasonga Put your thinking cap on. Ready? It’s a four-letter word. Clue: starts with an “r”, ends with an “e”. A harrowing incident. Most definitely traumatising. Comes from the Latin word rapere, which means, “to seize”. Another clue? When she was eight years old, quintessential literary all-rounder Maya Angelou was raped by her mother’s boyfriend. Thence, she became a voluntary mute, and literally stopped speaking for four years, turning to writing as her safety net. “You see, I’m often asked: ‘How did you escape it all: the poverty, the rape at an early age, a broken home, growing up black in the South?’ My natural response is to say: ‘How the hell do you know I did escape? You don’t know what demons I wrestle with’.” Dudes, demons and dumbness That’s my blasted demon. Rape. Violent seizure of innocence. Happened 20-something years ago. Never shared it until last year but one. Here’s my hypothesis. Every father has a demon. Some, a couple. For some, it’s erectile dysfunction. Or a hush-hush medical issue. Or living on the Down Low. Addictions. Secrets. Skeletons in the closet. You name it. To an extent, it’s the leitmotif that weaves in and out of his relationships and life experiences. I’m yet to meet a father who’s walked a mile in my shoes. My bad. Fathers aren’t supposed to share such stuff, because, I suppose, it conjures up images that are “un-macho”. Pshaw! If that’s not stigma, then I’m a petal. When I shared it, only one mate – a father of three – had the guts to reach out to a brother, although, I could tell from his hemming, that he didn’t know exactly how to “navigate”. Then, as it had been the past two-plus decades, my world fell silent. Like all fathers with seemingly creepier demons, I’m alone in my “support group”, save for, literally, my silent partner. Silence vs primal scream There are times, mostly nights, when I feel like screaming my terror the hell out. Like primal screaming’s the only elixir that’s going to heal me. But I keep on trucking, lips sealed, larynx muted, because of what folks – who know absolutely zilch about my issue – will think. Last thing I need is them thinking “dude’s got a loose nut upstairs”. In a July 2002 interview with Larry King, Nellie Connally – who was in the presidential limo with John F. Kennedy when he was assassinated in ‘63 – recounted her body’s reflexive reaction to bottled up trauma. A week after the event, she went to have her hair done. Connally’s hairdresser found a two-inch streak of snow white hair from the top of her head to the bottom, hair she didn’t have the previous week. And her therapist broke it down: “It’s because you kept everything inside. You didn’t scream. You didn’t holler out. You didn’t cry. And it manifested itself that way.” Man, demons – un-screamed out demons – can make a bloke gray in the noon of his life. Learning curve I’ve asked myself, countless times, what, if given the opportunity by my Creator on that day, I would ask. It’s not the oh-so-obvious, “Why me?” It will be, “Lord, can I see? See the recording of what was happening in heaven on my night of greatest terror?” I’m past the “why me” phase. I’m not, not by a long shot, past the endless wrestling, solo, against a demon that can drive a troop of pigs stark raving mad. Never will be past that part, I guess, unless a miracle happens. Which, if you ask me, or anyone who’s been through this wringer, is almost always a long time coming. Me? I’m on a learning curve. God’s learning curve. My thorn’s not to be exorcised but left right here, dead set, because for my grief, God has grace. For rape, He has, on the double, the angel of healing. What doesn’t kill a dude only makes him stronger. If I can’t find closure, I’ll find, at least, clarity. Homes can be Edenic, exactly as God intended. If fathers with demons – battling, like Adam, shame and nakedness – can, with understanding support, do their nurturing thing but be allocated a corner in the garden to, among other things, release their pent-up primal screams when it’s one of those freaky nights, then we can be one patch closer to Eden. ENDS UTILITY: Be emotionally available to your children As a father there are many emotional challenges you can go through. Every father has his story to tell. But these should not be a barrier between you and your family, especially wife and children. Physical interaction is undoubtedly an important part of the father-child relationship, but being emotionally available and involved is critical too. As John Gottman, author of The Heart of Parenting suggests, "Men must allow themselves to be aware of their feelings so they can empathize with their children. Then they must take whatever steps necessary to make themselves available to their kids. They must structure their lives so they can give more time and attention to their children." Add this page to your favorite Social Bookmarking websites           |
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