takeshi21

My father has always been a tough nut to crack, coming from the school of walking softly while carrying a big stick. As such, hes been a difficult man to become intimate with for anybody save my mother. She and I have gotten along fabulously for years, but not the same with pops. He just doesnt know how to open up.

Thats why it was so strange, almost uncomfortable, to hear him this weekend reaching out to me for help. For years Ive wanted him to be more my friend and less my father. After all, Ive turned the corner on 30, and Id like to think Im largely self-sufficient.

This all came about as I very reluctantly asked my parents for some relatively small assistance with money. I need to make clear that its extraordinarily unusual for me to do so because it always turns into such a big ordeal. As such, Id much rather solve my own problems than contend with the guilt and obligations that will surely be attached to their help.

In recent years, though, my overweight father has been diagnosed with diabetes. His doctor now feels he needs to be medicated for this condition. As a last ditched effort, my father decided to go on a crash diet and begin a regimen of regular exercise.

But two weeks into the experiment, little had changed.

I walk two miles a day and Im on a diet too, dad said. But I still havent lost a single pound.

Dad, its only been two weeks. Give it some time, I replied.

Yeah, well, sometimes I need some encouragement too, he snapped, with more than a small hint of frustration and bruised ego.

It suddenly occurred to me that as much as Ive yearned for his embrace as not just son, but as friend, that my stoic father equally needed such an embrace from me.

Dad, youve got to just keep at it. Its only been two weeks, I said. Youll come around.

I love my father. And now I realize that its my own responsibility to make him my own friend.