fathers and sons

Corinne and I see Billy Crystal’s one-man show, 700 Sundays.  Crystal’s father died when he was 15, and 700 is about the number of Sundays they had together.  It’s a beautiful, warm and funny show.

I leave the theater thinking about my own relationship with my parents, and my son’s relationship with his.

Mine is a traditional one.  I grew up in a household with two sisters, a mom and a dad.  There were no major traumas growing up.  My dad worked.  My mom stayed at home.  They seemed happy.  My sisters and I were pretty much good girls.  We all went to college, never were arrested, never fell in with the wrong crowd, never caused my parents much to worry about.  My parents are good people, and raised us well.  We are all close.

My son, unlike me, was not raised in a traditional home.  But today, and especially in New York, non-traditional homes are almost as common as traditional ones. 

I have many single friends who are raising sons alone, all with different scenarios.  But in every case but one, the child’s relationship with his dad is either non-existent or strained.

    One is a certified crazy father who has zero contact with my friend or her 13-year son; he disappeared after the child was born and never appeared again.

    One wants a relationship with his son but his son refuses; even at 15, this boy clearly sees his father’s many faults and doesn’t like what he sees.

    One’s life goal (or so it seems) is to make my friend’s life miserable, and now her 20-year-old son only reluctantly sees his dad, who lives nearby.

    One father is non-existent, as my friend adopted her son 21 years ago from a girl in the midwest.

    One dad exists only in a test tube; my friend is gay and is raising her 11-year old son with her committed partner.

My own son has no relationship with his father.  I wish it were otherwise. But he is very close to the rest of his father’s family.  He has outstanding role models in his two grandfathers and two uncles.  And he is surrounded by older male cousins and a loving extended family.

Sure, it’s possible to grow up and be happy and well-adjusted without a father’s positive influence.  Today’s world is much different than the world Billy Crystal grew up in.  It is more complicated.  It is more accepting.  But still. Watching 700 Sundays makes me sad.  700 isn’t a lot, but it ‘s all relative.  700 is still better than none.