Last week, my sister and I received a group text from our father asking, “Do you have any plans for June 15?” By now, we are both smarter than his not-so-subtle reminders, and replied with some version of “It’s Father’s Day – we are hanging out with you!”
My father loves the month of June. It’s like Amir time, all the time. His birthday is generally within a week or so of Father’s Day, and repeatedly reminds us that there are no 2-for-1 holiday specials. In his mind, each event deserves its own unique celebration (like some people who are born near a major holiday like Christmas, my father refuses to combine holidays – or gifts). And yes, I just called my father’s birthday a holiday – I am pretty sure he agrees.
This year, his high maintenance holiday status has taken to new heights, because he is getting remarried the weekend between Father’s Day and his birthday. It’s going to be a ten day extravaganza, and I am sure he is loving every minute.
I love my father. He is one of the most positive, supportive people in the world. He is always well-dressed (even his track suits seem pressed), with a generous heart, quick wit, and a way of raising one eyebrow up to let you know what he really thinks. He gets up in the middle of the night to watch random soccer games half way around the world – and not just during the World Cup. All. The. Time. He has a special gift with plants, and plays in tennis tournaments most weekends. If you like Persian food, soccer, and/or are willing to listen to his tennis stories, you will instantly be friends with my father.
Fathers often ask for advice on how to encourage their kids to become more organized, motivated, and purposeful, and there is definitely no one-size-fits-all approach. But here are a few tips I’ve noticed made a difference in my own life and in the lives of the students I’ve worked with:
Lead through your actions. Over the years, we inevitably become more like our parents than we ever want to admit. I am a super early riser (4 am this morning to write!) and do my best work in the mornings. My father hasn’t met a sunrise he doesn’t like. I can call him on a Saturday, and before 11 am he has gardened, gone grocery shopping, played tennis, cleaned the house and done the laundry. He works hard, finds the opportunity in nearly every situation, and is one of the most loyal people I know – often quietly helpful and thoughtful in a way that eschews acknowledgment or recognition.
Ask open-ended questions without expectation. When I wanted to start Green Ivy in my early twenties, he never discouraged me or thought it was a bad idea (or if he did, he kept it to himself). Instead he asked me a few open-ended questions (“Can you pay your rent?” and “How will you have health insurance?”). He had confidence I could figure it out, and if he had concerns, he kept them to himself. And in the years since, whenever I tell him about an idea, he asks objective questions without expectation – with a supportive thought in mind.
Put a priority on wellness. I travel a good deal, and my father always calls to make sure I am getting enough rest and exercise. He is super active, and still plays tennis at least 3-4 times a week, and often has tournaments on the weekends. He called me last week to tell me he and his doubles partner beat a pair of twenty-somethings in a three set tiebreaker. (This was one of the tennis match stories, see above, that you will hear about if you are friends with my father).
Be enthusiastic. One of my favorite memories is calling my dad from a street corner in Union Square in NYC to tell him about my first book deal (and the fact that I was going to be paid, by a major publisher, to write a book). His genuine excitement and “No KIDDING?!!?” reaction was one of the best rewards for something I had worked so hard to make happen. People often tell me how genuinely enthusiastic and excited I am about most everything – and I know it comes partially from him.
Last month, he came to a presentation I was giving at a high school near his house, and sat quietly in the back. After I was introduced, I mentioned how my dad was in the back of the room and joked that, “It just goes to show that no matter how old your kids are, you will still be going to their events…” He beamed.
The third Sunday in June shouldn’t be the only time we celebrate our fathers, and this June, mine is getting a ten-day extravaganza. He’s earned it.
Ms. Ana Homayoun, thank you for your blog this Father’s Day weekend, and also for your essay in today’s San Francisco Chronicle.
I will share your writings with my son Minh Jeffrey.
Like your father, I, too, arrived in the U.S. as an immigrant.
Similar to your father, I, too, have raised a child, a child who is most precious. My child is now in college.
Happy Father’s Day to you, your sister, and your father!