There are some defining moments in the life of a parent. The first time you see your child, first smile, first steps, first words, first ‘I love you Daddy’, first tooth, first day at school. Many of these are easy to miss in our busy lives. This is especially true if, like me, you live apart from your children and witnessing these precious moments is not to be taken for granted. There is one event though that is entirely reserved for fathers with daughters. No-one can take this away and, if it happens, it’s not possible to miss!. First meeting with your daughter’s boyfriend.
This last weekend marked this key moment for me when I met Tom, the boyfriend of my first daughter, Laura. For shorthand I’ll refer to this as ‘Meeting Tom’.
I’ve known about Tom’s existence for some weeks now. I had recently been in Wales for my sister-in-law’s 40th birthday and Laura was there. She spent more time checking her mobile phone for messages than she did anything else and I learned very little about the mystery man. Laura was not too keen to talk too much about him, I sensed out of some uncertainty about my reaction. This last weekend I was back in England for a couple of reasons and I decided to bite the bullet and invited them both to lunch with Mona (my partner). Now, no father of any of my girlfriends ever did that, so it was something of a new experience for me. For Laura too, I guess. And for Tom.
I carefully practiced with Mona all the things I was supposed to ask. What were his prospects? What intentions did he have towards Laura? Did he come from a good family? I was building myself up to play the role of ‘father-in-law-from-hell’. In retrospect this was my attempt to settle my nerves! Me, nervous at meeting a 16 year old Tom? Hell yes! Who was most nervous? Hard to say, but probably a close thing between Laura and me. Tom seemed pretty cool, as did Mona. Even Wendy, my ex (yes, it’s complex!), was surprisingly cool too.
I needn’t have worried as the lunch was pretty laid back. I broke the ice by getting lost trying to find the pub we were heading for. The ‘Green Man’ in Hurst if anyone knows it – impossible to find. I quickly established my credentials as a seriously flawed navigator. I think I might even have hit a kerb while driving, just to add to the tarnish on my reputation. I got lost again later on the way back, but by then I think it was to be expected. We quickly established a common interest in football (he’s a Newcastle United supporter) and a common goal in trying to get both Laura and Mona interested in the glorious game. To no avail. And chatted about school a bit, and other safe topics. I decided to leave the fatherly interrogation until a future meeting.
Meeting Tom was a multi-layered experience for me.
On the surface, an enjoyable lunch in a country pub with a couple of kids (can I call two 16 year old human beings ‘kids’?).
I enjoyed seeing something of me at 16 in Tom. It could be that I’m projecting something and that he is nothing like me at all. Or maybe there is truth in the Freudian (?) idea that we are often attracted to people who resemble our parents. I don’t know, but I definitely saw something of me in Tom. Dear Tom (or Dear Laura for that matter), if you read this, I hope you are not offended, but something in his polite and laid back manner, his physique (I was thin and ‘gangly’ at 16 too), his face expression and his long-ish and unkept-ish hair reminded me of myself.
I enjoyed seeing how Laura (really sweet 16!) has blossomed into an attractive, intelligent and confident young woman. Seeing her ease and connection with Tom was a real pleasure. She has matured and grown into a wonderful human being and much credit must go to her mother. I’ve hardly been involved in raising her. At 16 there are few signs of the child, though they are there still, you need to look quite hard to find them. An occasional childish giggle and a strange liking of X-Factor. The child is nearly gone and this attractive, intelligent and confident young lady has taken her place.
I felt a little confused seeing a new side to Laura. The woman in her. It’s not that I don’t like it, just that it’s new for me and I’m not yet sure how to relate to it. This was most clear to me when we got back to Laura’s home. Wendy was out visiting her sister so it was just the four of us. Should I stay or should I go? Remembering the kind of things preoccuping my mind at that age and uclear about the house rules, I decided to stay until Wendy returned. I was too embarrassed to raise the question, quite content (though a little awkward) to sit and wait. Possibly Laura and Tom wished us to leave so they could grab a moment on their own. If so, they were even more embarrassed than I was to say anything. Or maybe young people of today have different things on their minds than I had when I was 16.
I was surprised by how important it is to me what Laura thinks and feels about me. I don’t necessarily see this as a positive thing as it’s somehow a barrier to me being as authentic and as open as I would like. On the other hand it reminds me how precious are the times we spend together. We don’t see each other as much as I would like and there are almost always other people about. I’m often left with disappointment that I don’t make the most of my visits or more frequent visits. I wonder – does anyone spend as much quality time with their children as they would wish?
Finally, seeing her with Tom left me feeling sad. Sad for all those years when I did not have her to myself, father to daughter. Mourning all those other defining moments I missed through the choices I’ve made. Happy and sad that the child I hardly knew has changed into a woman.
