Something About Fatherhood

 

Germany, 1966. I had a few of my Army buddies

over to my basement apartment to help me celebrate

the birth of my first child. My mother-in-law told me

the next morning it was a boy for I hadn’t yet seen him.

Those were the days when expectant fathers had to

fidget around nervously in the hospital waiting room

while the mother was in labor and ready to give birth.

I waited and waited, but the stubborn little guy

would take his time before arriving. So, I was

sent home to wait. This could take awhile, I was

told. Meanwhile, I got a few friends together,

bought some blackberry brandy and beer, and

had an impromptu celebration at my place.

Lots of laughter, cigar smoking and sicken-

ingly sweet booze that evening, and a hell of a

hangover next morning when I got word of my

son’s birth.

A shower, a shave and a cup of coffee and I made

my way to the hospital, still woozy and blurry-eyed

from the night before.

I supposed that this was what new fathers did back

in the day. How in hell was I to know. Excuse me,

but I was only 19-years old. Yes, old enough to be

be in the army and procreate. Old enough to smoke

and consume too much booze. Old enough to be

hungover, but not necessarily wise enough to know

better.

As a first-time father, I had a lot to learn. Had I

an inkling of the responsibilities ahead of me, I

may have avoided asking my child’s mother out

on our first date. Ah, but too late for that now.

The proverbial horse had been let out of the barn.

Upon first sight, it was hard to tell if my son

resembled his mother or me. Newborns to the

untrained eye pretty much all look the same.

My child would have some growing to do before

I could tell who he favored in looks and person-

ality. I suppose training and upbringing would have

a lot to do with that.

Too bad it would take a lot of growing myself

to figure out who I needed to be. All I knew at

the time was that my son was pretty cute as

newborns go, and he had all his fingers and toes.

And I was smart enough to realize that I had some

cleaning up to do at the apartment from last night’s

party before he and his mother got home.

I may have been naive and only 19, but wasn’t a

total fool. I knew if his mother saw the mess my

friends and I had made, she’d be royally pissed.

                         -30-

Chris Hanch 10-21-2020