For Eric’s wedding video, I scour his childhood photo albums for weeks. That exercise in nostalgia got me reflecting on what else dads give or leave to sons on the eve of the “Big Fat Wedding.” Eric tells me, “I have fully inherited all your nostalgia genes.” Great, what else did he inherit? With dads of every generation, I wonder: Have I done right by my kid? Have I done enough? What will my legacy be? What aspects of my life, faith, and marriage will he imitate?
Then there’s 4-year-old Eric at ocean’s edge leaning on me for moral support, coupled with an 18-year-old Eric leaning on my shoulder, this time offering prayer and leaning on his heavenly Father, at a Promise Keepers stadium event (circa 1998).
Then I find 7-year-old Eric at the same Atlantic Ocean, held by Granddad, which I couple with 19-year-old Eric, now towering above my dad and holding him up while wading into still waters (Psalm 23). More on that later....
Elsewhere I see Eric engaged in sports I used to take up, often coached by me, much as I was coached by my dad. Also in the photo pile are, interestingly, some family camping and hiking-through-nature scenes that depicted my childhood, as well as Eric’s.
Then it dawns on me to invoke William Wordsworth’s poem: “The child is father of the man.” Wordsworth helps me—and all fathers concerned about their legacy—to connect the dots and better understand father-child bonding.
My heart leaps up when I behold
A Rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the man;
And I wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety.
This poem depicts natural or instinctive actions of innocent, untaught children. The Child Wordsworth exemplifies wonder, joy and awe upon seeing a rainbow; he wants that attitude to characterize his adult years, as well. Otherwise, for him life is not worth living.
If “the Child is father of the man,” then legacy and influence go both ways: Just as a boy may inherit his father’s traits or genes, so also a mature man may retain and develop the characteristics evident in his child(hood). The “natural piety” in view here is distinct from the “artificial piety” that comes from religious instruction: Eric is not tainted by the latter and, as a nature-and-peace photographer, he has the more natural piety akin to Quakers. See www.peacephotography.org.
We do well to unlearn and relearn natural piety—from our children and from Wordsworth. In Wordsworth’s ideal world, childhood and adulthood are essentially undivided (“bound each to each”). Feelings of awe and appreciation for God’s beautiful handiwork span decades and the generations, without being forced or lost on either party.
But that’s life and marriage as designed by God. Neither is possible without letting go and letting God. And by acknowledging “the Child is father of the man”!
Before long I’ll be led by the hand beside still waters—as was my dad pictured above—and that scares me! See what happens when you dig up old photos and trip down memory lane? This trip took me back to the future and shook up my faith to let go and let God. How so? Because “the Child is father of the man”!
“Happy Anniversary, Eric and Molly!” And to the rest of you, “Happy Father’s Day!”