A man of few words is the phrase often used to describe my father. He is an academic, an introvert and hardly a “guy’s guy”. He is not the father who took you to basketball games, spent Sunday afternoons watching football or had poker nights in your basement; he is the man who when he speaks has something thoughtful and intelligent to say; he the man who spent most of my childhood locked away in his office writing academic pieces; finally, he is the man who probably could not tell you what my favorite color is or who my first boyfriend was. However, I would not trade this man for the world.
Having a father like this is difficult in some ways, I’m not his “little princess” and he doesn’t talk about the day he’ll get to walk me down the aisle. A majority of my childhood was spent without him, because we didn’t have many similarities or shared activities. But, losing out on the father-daughter date nights, meant that I got a father who believes in me and pushes me. A father who is willing to stay up till 4 am editing a 35-page article because his daughter wrote it; a father who is proud that his child didn’t give up on education but rather pursued a both bachelors and a masters. He may not be your normal father, but isn’t the idea of normal relative, anyways?
So yes, having a father of few words is difficult, but it also means that the few words he says are always genuine and true. He might not offer me a lot of advice, but the little advice that he says, is worth 1,000 cheesy “you’ll do better next time” moments. He told me that, “as your father it is my job to teach and protect you, but ultimately you need to make your own choices.” He didn’t coddle me and tell me what I needed to do, but rather, he supported me and let me spread my wings, always letting me know that if I fell, he’d be there to catch me. And because of his few words, I have been able to grow into a person who is confident in her choices.
So yes, my father may not say many words, but the words he says are always worth waiting for.