Last night I was watching episode five of season three of the TV show Halt and Catch Fire. It featured yet another young man yelling at his dad for not being around enough decades earlier.
It seems like most movies and TV shows about fathers and sons show the sons resenting their dads for not spending enough time with them when they were growing up.
I don’t think I know anyone like this. I don’t think I know anyone who wishes that their parents spent more time with them. It certainly never occurred to me as a kid nor as an adult reflecting on my childhood that I yearned for more quality time with my parents. I never wanted them to attend my athletic events or my school performances or spend more time with me in general. I don’t remember resenting my father for being on the road. I was proud of him for his influential role in the church. I was proud that he was living his dreams and affecting hundreds of lives. I always thought he was a great man. It never would have occurred to me to distract my dad from his mission by playing some stupid game with me. I had friends to play with.
From about age six on, I was free to roam. I’d leave the house after breakfast and wander freely (or go to school starting in second grade at age eight) until I got hungry for lunch. Then I’d eat and wander again until I was either hungry or it was dark outside. And look how I turned out.
