My father treated my mother with honor and respect. He never let me call an adult by his or her first name and demanded I show respect to my elders. When he let me drive shortly after my 16th birthday, he made it clear he had rules for using his car, just as there are rules of the road. When he said he wanted me back at a certain time, if I wanted to drive again, I returned at the appointed hour until I was able to buy my own car (with his help on the bank note).
Times change, but standards don't. Not a family on my boyhood street experienced divorce. Now divorce is common. Then, a battered woman was a rare occurrence. Now it is far too frequent. Boys were taught by their fathers to respect women. Most guys I knew in high school were virgins, though many lied about it. "Safe sex" meant saving it for marriage.
My favorite picture is of Dad feeding me a bottle when I was 6 weeks old. He is dressed in a suit and a large smile. His right hand holds the bottle, while his left hand is cupped around my shoulders. It is a picture of security and serenity. I wish more boys had fathers like mine. I wish even more that mine was still with me.
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