A Tale of 2 Dads...

As you know, we have taken the plunge and joined the local YMCA swim team. Our daughter has a zillion practice laps and a couple of meets under her belt now and it seems like we are getting into a nice routine of being swim team parents.

This past weekend our endeavor in swimming took us to two meets. One at our home Y and the other at the Newark Y (which we had to leave for at 6 a.m. in order to warm-up at 7). Our very own daughter proved to do well at both meets and actually took first in one of her breaststroke events by coming from behind and stretching out to touch the wall before the other swimmers. It was an exciting weekend in the water.

So are you wondering why my blog today is entitled "A Tale of 2 Dads?" This weekend I witnessed 2 Dads interact with their daughters after they completed their swim event. One daughter won. The other daughter lost, actually pulled herself out of a relay by just stopping mid-stroke. What took place after each event struck my heart and truly made me cry.

Number One Dad...
Saturday I had to work at the Y. I was in full earshot of Dad and daughter discussing the victory she had just accomplished. Dad asked what her time was and she answered with "a minute."

He questioned, "a minute? A minute flat?"

She responded, "No, a minute nine."
He then proceeded to tell his daughter that she was lying to him. That she should have done better. That she wasn't good enough to compete.

Mid-banter her friend interrupted and said that "umm, I think you beat me." The daughter answered, "umm, yeah, I think so. Good race, though." Friend walked away.

Are you ready for this?

Dad then began to berate his daughter...
"Why did you say that?"
"Why didn't you tell her that you BEAT her?"
"Next time you tell her, yes, I won."
"Tell her the You beat Her."

This poor child then began to cry. Her eyes were so sad. She was probably 13 yet in that moment she looked like a child of 4.

My heart broke. My reaction was to run to this little girl and tell her that no matter what, she was worth something more than a time on a scoreboard, more than her Dad's second chance in life, more than a sounding board for her dad. She really is a child of God and that Nobody could take that from her.

Dad left. She took her place in the gym, trying to muster up some saneness. Tried to hang out like the others were doing. As she left the meet, I saw her hugging just about every boy on her team.

Dad, better shape up. Your daughter is already trying to find your love from somebody else.

Next day, next scene from a Dad...

Number Two Dad...
Daughter was either third or anchor leg in a relay. Looked like a good team, probably come in second or third. It was her turn and she froze. She stopped mid-race and the team was disqualified. Found out later that she has been having some anxiety issues. Yet what we saw next defines unconditional love from a Dad...

Dad hugging daughter in the hallway. She cried, he hugged. She whispered, he listened. She cried a little more, he held on tighter. No pointing fingers, no hate, no second chances for Dad. She fell and he was there to pick her up, wipe her off and put her back on her feet. No words were needed, just affection.

Again I cried.

I am so thankful that my Dad was like Number Two Dad. I am so thankful that my husband is like Number Two Dad. I am praying that my son will be like Number Two Dad as well.

We all need to be like him.