But I'm not sure where else to write this down. So, here we go: I collect men without fathers. Men, who, for whatever reason or circumstance, lost their dads early on. Some of these dads are still alive, of course, but you know how these things are. Not everyone knocks it out of the park in child-raising.
I think it started in college, as most things do. I had more guy friends than girl friends (girls can be so sensitive, catty and just work). Guys are easy, if you are a total bitch to them, they tell you that you are being such and then the next day, it's over. I can prove this - I can give you the number of a lovely, lovely man in Germany who will verify. He probably even brought tiramisu home from his restaurant job and gave it to me within 48 hours of my bitchiness. That's guys for ya.
Somewhere around the end of college I remember a dear and wise friend, who also happened to be a Dean at my college, tied the strings of my male friendships together for me. Unlike my father, who assumed all these men were attempting to get in my pants ("I was their age once, you know."), or my mother who feared that my mythical future husband would be "scared away" by these guys hanging around me, my Dean friend was hip to the vibe that is modern relationships among the genders. "Men without fathers" she said to me. Ahhhh, yes, 'tis true.
And it continued, and sometimes wandered into my dating life, but not usually. Men without fathers did not want to date me, they wanted me to take them to buy their first sports coat or suit. They wanted me to talk to them about how to buy their first car, they wanted to tell me every detail of their last breakup. They wanted me to tell them what job to take or how to respond to a particularly cryptic email from a supervisor, or girl.
Moving into the professional world, where friendships are more fleeting and less personal, despite sheer number of hours spent together, I had petty much forgotten this thread. After all, you often have no idea about the fathers, or lack thereof, of "work friends." And you certainly do not take them shopping for professional attire. They have that all sorted by now.
But then, last week, I had a little shock when a former colleague came back to town and stopped by. You see, I took his picture and posted to Facebook so we could all revel in the joy of having him back in our circle for a little while. We had fun, we joked, there was a crowd. It was nice. And then, in the car I checked Facebook to see the hilarious flurry of comments and I was, like I said, struck. The picture looked oddly familiar to me. Like one I had taken of the guy from Germany a while back. They were so similar, and I had never noticed. Similar in appearance, yes, and demeanor, sure, but also in the way we talk and what we talk about. Both ambitious as all hell, and smart and doing just fine, but also both a little slow in getting comfortable in their own skin.
I want to send the old colleague the number of the guy in Germany - he's 10 years older, settled, happy, delightful and whole. You will get there, my friend. And I will be delighted.
