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The news nobody wanted to hear.  A brand new cancer center candidly told my dad that his cancer is growing again and he needs to return to doses of chemotherapy to kill the cancer.  I am pretty sure that dad either (a) did not want to leave me such a message, or (b) more likely, did not want me to see him in a compromised state.  I don’t care — I just want as many days as I can still be with him…

As you may have read, the television show “American Chopper: Senior vs. Junior” has come to illuminate some of the head-butting my father and I go through.

Watching Paul Sr. go to an individual counseling session this evening was interesting…  My perception (later echoed by the therapist) was that the father came as a favor, not really looking for new awareness or insight but to appease the other.  This his wife came into the picture and said, “Maybe he doesn’t feel comfortable with you”.  So Senior tells her that the same stress that split him and Junior is now affecting him and his youngest son — that is, he isn’t going to go to another counseling session.

I find it so invigorating to see shades of my own life played out in reality television, because this felt like I went through last month — making the trip to visit my father, and willingly entering a couples counseling session with him, only to find that “the sole issue” from his perspective was a suspicion he had that I wasn’t telling something from my past.  Something that made me angry at him.  Regardless of how much I said that I felt anger in many parts of my life, he felt it was about him — to the point of calling me a “coward” in our post-counseling conversation.

The blessing for me came in recognizing that this behavior of my dad’s was what pissed me off!  That (1) he knows better than me — and most other people on the planet, and (2) refuses to listen and accept the answer to his question, really does drive me berserk.  This we shall discuss in our next counseling session…

My son knows a lot of the new era of TV shows, like “Man vs. Wild” and “Dirty Jobs” — shows they didn’t have when I was young!  But another one he knows, and I’d heard about, is “American Chopper”.

So today, as he and I woke up to spend the day together, he happened to see that Discovery Channel was airing a ‘marathon’ of the series.  Upon sitting down with him, I started learning about the last couple years of the show — specifically that the father (Paul Sr.) had fired the son (Paul Jr.) after a blowup.

It was shocking how much I resonated with “Jr.” and imagined my father speaking when I heard “Sr.” (not surprisingly, the ages correspond fairly closely).  And perfect as a case study for the Fathers Sons Project!

Here’s my synopsis after seeing a few episodes:

• Sr. perceives that nobody’s ever given him anything. He started the company decades back, building motorcycles alone — and over the years built a brand and a following.  He brought Jr. into the business and eventually gave him a 20% stake.  However, the two of them have fought “off and on” for ten years.  Sr. feels that Jr. has a lax work ethic — that he never had to work for anything in his life and doesn’t complete things.
• Jr. on the other hand perceives that his Dad is projecting his own frustrations with himself (Sr.) onto him (Jr.)  He also says his Dad is ultra-competitive and intent on bringing Jr. down after Jr. opened his own motorcycle shop.  To one of his Dad’s complaints — the proverbial camel-breaking straw, that Jr. always comes in to work late and takes long lunches — Jr. responds that he’s always been under his Dad’s thumb and that the work always gets done.

The series is now being renamed “American Chopper: Sr. Vs. Jr.” and we’ll look forward to this case study with interest!

When I heard that Dad had gone to the hospital twice in the past week for dehydration, I got concerned. After my step-mom told me that he was down to 117 lbs., I called the airlines to see where I could possibly make the trip on frequent flyer miles (this being holiday time, there are premiums even on mileage redemption!).

Unfortunately, upon telling Dad I wanted to come visit him, he said he couldn’t bear to have me come out “because of the arguments”. He reminded me that we had a huge blowup on my last visit — which is true (one out of five days, we took a walk where he called me a ‘coward’ because I had no answer to his query why I was angry with him).

I admit I was a bit incredulous at the suggestion that an argument is a one-way street, especially for a guy like him who has control issues wherever he goes. (I know, because it happens for me too — big surprise!)

So I said that the most important thing for me is that he heal from this cancer treatment and that he be happy — both of which are absolutely true. I added that I was glad he had lots of other people coming to visit and support him, and said that he must have ‘happy’ relationships with all of them.

I knew that, based on his health, I might not get to see him alive again.  But I also have faith that what needs to happen, will.

And, in “simmering” on the conversation for the rest of the day, I realized that I was responding from my head — to point out the flaw in his logic. Yet, in hindsight, I see that the best way I could have responded would be to say “I’m sad about that” (If someone knows where the rewind button is, let me know!)

Messy Room by Shel Silverstein

“Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
His underwear is hanging on the lamp.
His raincoat is there in the overstuffed chair,
And the chair is becoming quite mucky and damp.
His workbook is wedged in the window,
His sweater’s been thrown on the floor.
His scarf and one ski are beneath the TV,
And his pants have been carelessly hung on the door.
His books are all jammed in the closet,
His vest has been left in the hall.
A lizard named Ed is asleep in his bed,
And his smelly old sock has been stuck to the wall.
Whosever room this is should be ashamed!
Donald or Robert or Willie or–
Huh? You say it’s mine? Oh, dear,
I knew it looked familiar!”

During the time that Paul was visiting, I also had my brother Harry visiting. Paul and Harry were practically strangers then and the time would give them an opportunity to get acquainted as an additional benefit.  The weekend was relaxing and pleasant. We went to the health club after breakfast on Saturday and Sunday. It was time for racquetball and exercise.

At the end of the workout Paul and I spent some time in the steam room and we had some honest dialogue. One issue related to his children and my dismay at the idea that, notwithstanding that I had visited his home over the years, they were strangers to me. I shared my feelings that I viewed him as an excellent father, his style of dealing with his children was foreign to me and on the occasions that I visited him or the rare occasions that he visited me, he kept his children so close to his and their mother that there was no opportunity for me to get acquainted with them.

After the club it was home in time for lunch. The afternoons were spent with games and conversation and work on the computer. It was a relaxed time although I had had some residual issues with Sue that impinged on my feeling of peace.

I had been at the health club working with my personal trainer. The workout complete, I headed for the exit and the parking lot to make my way back home. As I crossed the road from the Club to the parking lot a car approached that I immediately recognized as my wife’s. Her presence at that place and at that time was both unexpected and curious. She stopped her car just short of where I was walking and I observed the passenger door open and someone with shorts and a tee shirt, street socks and tennis shoes exit. It was Paul who stood there in front of me. His presence at that moment and in that place  was nothing less than a shock to me because we had just communicated via the internet on the subject of his making the trip to Illinois. While I was happy of his intentions I was cold to the idea of his taking the time and money to travel so far – especially in view of his financial and other circumstances. So, as I stood there almost in disbelief, all I could say was “What the hell are you doing here?”  That’s when Paul started jumping around and, to the apparent dismay of the people observing, yelling to Sue that she dropped him off at the wrong place.  That was immediately followed by our hugs and kisses.

Sue left and we got into my SUV and started the trip home. As we drove, I was consumed with mixed feelings between being happy to see him and concerned about the time and expense. I felt better when he explained that he was able to use some his accumulated air miles for the airfare and realized that the time we would spend would hopefully give him some peace.

The joy that I felt in Paul’s presence was in some measure minimized by the realization that we had just come off of a bitter exchange that related to his current circumstances and my attempts to assist through which misunderstandings arose as a result. It was, from my perspective, more of the same basic issues that has haunted us for so many years and were still unresolved.  It seemed that things I did or words I used would rub Paul in such a way that he would become enraged.

I broached the idea of our seeing a therapist while he was visiting (the therapist who was assisting my wife Sue and I with our marriage issues). Since this was a Friday and Paul would be visiting through Tuesday I asked Paul whether he would be up for the idea of seeing the counselor. I was happy that Paul was eager for the opportunity to address some of our issues.  Sadly I was only able to get one appointment with the counselor – but one was better than none and hopefully it would give us some incentive to continue with a dialogue.

The Great Spirit, God, Divine Chance, and/or Universal Mystery brought me back to do work last night in a circle of men. Amazingly, coincidentally, and/or serendipitously, I had begun this process thirteen years ago with my dad. This was intense work, and the first time we had gone through any such experience like this together. And actually, we did some more healing work together this past spring.

Both times we got closer, and bumped into each other. Sure, it’s because we have “hard heads” but I also believe it’s archetypal for fathers and sons to be forced to work this kind of thing out in order to be authentically present with each other. I discovered in 1989 that I needed to work out my issues face-to-face with other men, and each time I did so, I saw reflections of my issues with dad, with authority figures, with my fully claiming manhood.

Tonight I give thanks for the group of men who have committed to do this work, and I give thanks to my father and my son.

So I drafted a long email to my dad to let him know that, despite the fact I’d encouraged my wife to contact him to resolve the baggage of the past, I had not reconsidered accepting his money (that I’d originally asked for).

Perhaps pride had worked its way into the conversation now, but he in the process of considering whether to help me, he “dissed” my money-management ability, my parenting style, and my coparenting ability.

I was so sure I had the proof I could write him off as a judgmental ol’ kurmudgeon that I stopped loving him as a person and turned hi into an object I could push away.

Enter Murphy.  Or the Universe.  Or something…

Before I send it, he beats me to the punch.  Here’s an excerpt of his email:

I’m not sure how to approach you on matters because i feel as though you are both angry and feel threatened by me. I tried to explain to you that i was not aware of all the circumstances. My comment in my e-mail about me never borrowing $ was in no way an effort on my part to cast aspersions on you and you abilities. Frankly, I admire your intellect, tenacity, creativity, courage  and work ethic.

I am on your side and want you to accept the fact that I want to be there in times of your need just as I would like to feel that you would be there for me. My problem is that i wanted some information so that we could talk about ways to deal with getting out of the mess. I am not here to criticize or judge – I would like to help, but I need your input and willingness to work the problem. I feel that if I make suggestions that you may not agree with you take it personally as an attack on you.  Yes I don’t agree with a lot of the things you do, but when the chips are down we have to pull together – not apart.

There’s the guy I love.  I don’t know whether he came back because I shouted at him so loud it hurt my throat, or whether it was because I pulled away and put my guard up.

But whatever way it is, I appreciate having his positive instead of his negative.  And I want to give him my positive as well.

So ends another firestorm.  We’ve had them before and I’m ready to say “enough”.  I know he’s already said so as well.

The energy investment in sharing all this is because I’m absolutely convinced we are not the only ones to go through this — that we are acting out an archetypal drama that has gone on for millenia.  Sam Keene, Robert Bly, and numerous others have written books on this.  But I wanted to create a community where we could see different dimensions.

If reading this “episode” has struck a heartstring with you, I hope you’ll comment.

Even though I had considered responding to Dad’s demand for an apology about my comments on his bitterness and cancer with a hand-written letter explaining (rationalizing) my position, I managed to awake one morning with a surprising “peace of mind” that I could let go of my resistance.

So in that morning conversation, I learned a number of things.  One was that he still held onto baggage between him and my wife (around which I had unsuccessfully suggested he communicate with her earlier in the year) and another was that his physical situation is far more serious than I had realized.

So I shared with her that he still saw a chasm between them, and she promptly wrote him an apologetic email about this longstanding issue.  I told her how impressed I was with her communication, and apparently they had a good dialogue.  She had shared enough details about the situation that he said he was putting the check in the mail after all.

I told her that was not going to work with me and that I’d already decided the money would come from somewhere else rather than subject ourselves to his judgment — which I understand didn’t sit well with him.

Worst of all, this conversation was in the midst of my asking Dad for a loan. (The climate crunch has been particularly tough on our family’s income, and this would represent the third “ask” of my father).

He asked for me to disclose my financial details to him, which it took me a few days to round up.  I eventually sent him the information but decided to maintain some privacy by sending a “screen shot” rather than the straight text.  (You may or may not know that dozens of copies of every email message you send get routed through all points on the globe and reassembled on the receiving end…).  It was not just for privacy but also out of shame over my conundrum.

The next day, I realized I had forgotten to include in the list the money he had earlier loaned me.  So I replied to that effect, and included the picture again.

I also included the link to this web site that I had suggested starting together.  His reply showed that he had ignored the site, which hurt — atop the fact that (rather than asking what those pictures were that showed as big black boxes on his screen) said how reasonable it was that he had asked for something I wouldn’t provide.  Then he questioned gifts that we had gotten for his 2 grandkids on his behalf, saying he could have gotten them cheaper by buying it used.

Let me tell you, I started out calm when I called.  I asked why in the world he would write a scathing email when he could have called (I can’t even remember what he said).  Then I jumped in, saying how presumptuous he was to base all kinds of comments on his perception that I hadn’t provided him my financials when, in fact, I had — twice.  I asked if he had anything to say, and he didn’t respond.  So I let him have the other barrel.  I was pissed off.  And underneath, I was sad and hurt.

So I said I’d better hang up before it got any worse.  And then I wrote my own scathing email — and capped it off with a terrible comment about deserving this second bout of cancer he’s going through.

Sheez, could I really have said that?  Yep, and I kept saying that he deserved it.

Do I wish I could take it back?  Yes, because I don’t like how far out of control I can get (just like I’ve watched him get for years).

It took me 4 days to apologize.

Though our drama was far from over.

In the conversation about co-creating this web site, my father and I had an incredible blow-up. 

Tragic, yet ironically poignant.

For context, I’ve held regret for not taking Dad up on his invitation circa 1980 to join him in creating computer software for the legal industry.  At the time, whether I correctly remember the invitation or not, my sense was that it was ludicrous that we could ever work together.

Half the time, I wanted to hug him and hold him as I wanted a father to help me be the best man I could be in the world. The other half of the time, I wanted to kill him for emotionally but not physically abandoning his marriage even before my birth.

So in some respect, I think he and I have had parallel opportunities for learning about true love. Unconditional love. Both with each other and with our respective lovers.  More to come.