Daddy's little girl
Certain it is that there is no kind of affection so purely angelic as of a father to a daughter. In love to our wives there is desire; to our sons, ambition; but to our daughters there is something which there are no words to express. — Joseph Addison, English essayist
I took my kids to school in the early morning of Wednesday last week and was struck by the sight of a good friend and co-parent, Miguel, who was crouched on the floor disentangling the shoelaces of his seven-year-old daughter, Alicia. She was seated on a bench and he, all dressed for work in a crisp barong, was crouched on the floor working on her shoe.
The image was priceless.
These are visuals that stop us in our tracks and stir up our insides for isn’t it more common in similar situations for a father to reprimand the daughter and have her do it herself or ignore the matter altogether because of time concerns or sheer disinterest?
Not Miguel. I bump into him in school all the time, in the early mornings, as he walks his daughters to their classrooms bearing their bulky rucksacks and lunch pails, sending them off to start their days with a kiss and a smile—without fail. And not just him; many men of my generation have been emancipated from that archaic Victorian way of stern, remote fathers who are averse to displays of affection of any sort. Thank heavens!
There is this other friend, Ronnie, who makes it a point to participate in his four-year-old daughter, Ana’s, free play. Ana loves little dolls — those Polly Pocket types — that are no bigger than a man’s thumb. She loves changing their clothes but with her motor skills not yet completely developed, is very much challenged by the chore. So she looks to Ronnie to play wardrobe mistress and help her in putting on the dolls’ clothes, fastening the clasps, tying the bows, and buttoning the buttons. The problem is, he takes 40,000 hours to put one article of clothing on that darned doll because his huge hands and fingers get in the way.
But then it becomes the Norman Rockwell photo that it is because father and daughter sit there patiently, with Ana cheering Ronnie on as he fumbles away, offering him tips on how skirts must sit on the hips and not on the chest like a tube top, and showering him with kisses—anything to get the job done and have Polly Pocket fashionably ready and dressed to the nines.
Ronnie says, “I would really rather tune in to the Ultimate Fighter Championship on cable and watch grown men clobber each other but she’ll only be little for a short time and UFC will be there until I croak.”
My own father was a busy man; work took him out of town a lot, plus, there was golf, and tennis, and basketball among many other things. But the times he was home, he was mostly with me or around my siblings and me. He, himself, taught me how to ride a bike, running alongside my faltering, zigzagging bicycle, all sweaty and panting but at the ready to prop me up in half a heartbeat. He taught me how to rollerskate. He taught me how to shoot a basketball properly. He taught me how to box with my thumbs closed in on my fist and not upright like a sissy flashing a thumbs up sign. He made me watch all the Rocky movies of Sylvester Stallone and put me on his lap as he held my fists and threw them into the air to punch in perfect synch with Rocky. He taught me how to write the small letter “e” in print the right way: with the corner done sharply and not in a rounded manner. “Sharp corners in writing means solid character,” he said.
When my mother was abroad during prom season in high school, my father took me to the salon to have my hair and makeup done. He didn’t just drop me off, he actually sat there and read all the newspapers for a good hour or two until I was dolled up and ready. He also took me to the store to shop for cologne because I didn’t have any — didn’t see the need for it until that occasion. And so we both went, two clueless stooges — he of the Old Spice-and-Brut school of thought, and I of the I-thought-I-was-a-boy-until-today faction — spritzing cologne in the air and sniffing away, unable to tell which scent smelled fresh and which was dog fart.
His emotions had always been kept under lock in key but in recent years have surfaced verbally with “I love you” text messages. The last time I visited with him some months ago he said something that might have been a confession — something that has changed my disposition entirely. While in the car on the way to the house and talking about his childhood he said to me, “You know my parents were traditional, very old fashioned, and so there wasn’t affection around the house. There was a lot of disciplining. But I understood. I knew they loved me. That’s why I didn’t know any better with you and your siblings either. You understand, don’t you?” My reply was, “I love you too, Dad.”
“Every father can make a huge difference in a daughter’s life,” claims Joe Kelly, author of Dads and Daughters: How to Inspire, Understand, and Support Your Daughter When She’s Growing Up So Fast. He adds: “As the primary male role model in a girl’s life, fathers influence their daughters in profound ways, from how they see themselves to what they come to expect from men and the world at large. But men often don’t realize the importance of their interactions or may shy away from too-close involvement because of their inexperience, or conditioning.”
We don’t hear much talk about the influence of fathers on daughters. It’s more common to hear about how girls are influenced by their mothers. But all it takes is a moment’s reflection to start realizing the huge impact that fathers have on daughters. It is normal and natural that every daughter would want to know what’s interesting to, or gets the attention of, members of the opposite sex. That is important knowledge for her to have even if she never marries because she lives in a world half-full of boys and men.
Where will she turn for this information? Most often, she’ll turn to the first member of the opposite sex she gets to know: Dad. So the way fathers act toward their daughters and the other females in her life is what she will expect from boys and men. The same is true for their attitudes, words and beliefs.
Kelly says, in all of those, fathers represent “The richness, honor, and value of being a man. When they are true to their daughters and true to their masculine heritage, their daughters will learn to respect men and treat them as equals. They will learn to gravitate toward men who respect them and treat them as equals, while turning away from men who threaten, violate and abuse.”
The impact fathers have on their daughters is astounding and they have many choices about how to use this influence. They can send their daughters down their life roads with clear and healthy expectations of men, or leave them tangled in underbrush, confused about what to accept from men. Daughters will probably end up being drawn toward men who choose paths similar to the ones their fathers tread as men. The example of fathers is the road map daughters use to discover relationships (romantic or otherwise) with boys and men; it becomes the way by which they navigate the world outside family.
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Thank you for your letters. You may reach me at cecilelilles@yahoo.com.
