THAT'S MEN:My father was a better man than I will ever be
LISTENING TO Peter Murtagh talking on the radio the other day about the latest Irish Times Book of the Year, which he edits, I was struck again by the almost mythical stature which fathers can occupy in the minds of their adult children.
He mentioned an article by the late Maurice Neligan in this supplement about a year ago in which he said of his father: “You were a lifestyle nightmare Dad. You were overweight, had high blood pressure and ate all the wrong things.
“You worried more than anybody I ever knew about any matter, however trivial. Yet you made it to 84 without serious illness. I hope I carry your genes and I hope I am half the man you were.”
Maurice was a man with enormous achievements in surgery and was immensely popular with readers of The Irish Times, but as far as he was concerned he would never match the stature of his father.
Do we fathers recognise what a mythical stature we have in the eyes of our children? Probably not – we know ourselves too well.
There is something immensely attractive about the fact that fathers are seen in this way and that’s worth celebrating at this time of year.
At one time I was a business reporter and, like all my colleagues, found myself writing frequently about the doings of Michael Smurfit and his business group.
He was a source of fascination because he was a top-class industrialist on an international scale to a level that we had never seen before. He has since been honoured with a doctorate and a knighthood, but his main achievement remains a business empire which is based on reality and not on the sort of smoke and mirrors that we have become all too used to.
Yet I recall, from that time, that he took the same attitude to his father, Jefferson Smurfit Snr, as Maurice Neligan did to his. His father was a successful entrepreneur who started working at the age of 12. Still, Michael’s achievements in industry are stratospheric by comparison. Nonetheless, he talks of his father as awe-inspiring and as the driving force in his career.
My own father worked hard on a farm of 60 acres, which could provide the necessities of life and an education for us children but which left little over beyond that. He worked until at least nine every evening and smoked two cigarettes before bed (and never more than two a day – which he gave up for Lent every year).
He was principled and stubborn and stopped the local hunt, which was made up of high-status individuals, from crossing our land because he disagreed with foxhunting.
I can say with absolute certainty that he was a better man than I will ever be.
Those of us who are fathers ourselves will also, I hope, share in that mythical status in the eyes of our own children in the future. And it’s good to know that this status seems to have nothing at all to do with financial success.
In fact, I don’t believe I have ever in my life heard anyone expressing admiration for their father because of his money. Something deeper than that is going on.
Is this realised by young men who have children outside marriage? I was delighted the other day to see news of a report by the Crisis Pregnancy Agency which suggest that it is.
Author of the report, Dr Elizabeth Nixon, said: “These findings reveal a picture of involved and committed fathers and challenge traditional stereotypes and incorrect assumptions of young unmarried fathers as uninvolved and uninterested. The young fathers believed that being a good father entailed more than being a provider. Despite having a limited ability to provide financially for their children, many realised the positive impact that they could have on their children’s lives by being physically present and involved in daily care-giving activities.”
Isn’t that marvellous? Isn’t it something to cherish and to celebrate?
Padraig O’Morain (pomorain@ireland.com) is a counsellor accredited by the Irish Association for Counselling and Psychotherapy. His mindfulness newsletter is free by e-mail