May 26, 2018
Building bridges is the one structure I need to continually construct while raising my boys to be men.
"Dad, I can't do it," I'm told by one of my boys.
"Yes, you can. Focus on the task. Zero in on the goal. And attack the problem until you get your desired results."
I compare raising my boys to building bridges because I know I'll always have to extend my hand as if it were a span extending from the mainland towards them as a pillar of strength, trust, and understanding during their time in need.
Bridges with spans are enormous and are built sturdy. When I think of bridges, the Golden Gate Bridge, Brooklyn Bridge, or the Tower Bridge over the River Thames comes to mind. They have lasted decades, and some lasted a century. The pillars and expansion of a bridge launch outward over some gorge, river, and ocean as it expands outward until one end meets a truss arch that was rebuilt to give it a stable footing. Then, once it's safely attached to the truss, the next span can begin again. The process starts a new one, until the next truss, and so on. My bridge can never stop reaching an end. Because my life spans decades and it's fluid and dynamic. I need my bridge to last more than my lifetime. It must last my kid's lifetime and then their kids, kids.
As their father, I'm entrusted to ensure that the bridge I'm continually constructing is held together with a sound foundation. I try to be as stable as I can, but even as the architect of my boys' early life, I'm susceptible to my insecurities and self-doubt. I know how big of an impact I can have on Nico and Christopher. I don't want to blow it. I'm not constructing a bridge over the River Kwai only to have Alec Guinness come blow it up!
These massive structures of a spanning bridge are held up by solid cables that expand in between giant trusses and are held up by thick cables that add much-needed stability. Intertwined in what seems to be a single thick metal strain. Upon closer inspection, you'll see hundreds of interlaced cable strains that form a massive suspension line. Without due care, the newly created expansion line will break. Inspections and maintenance are critical. That is why I constantly adjust where I'm failing them.
Those moments of inward self-reflection are essential because I have to prepare for the times when I'm broken. I may doubt myself as a parent about how I approached their problems, and I have to be prepared to rebuild my span when these parenting questions arise.
Did I "lose it" and yell at them because my patience ran out?
Did I ignore their questions while responding to a text?
Did I ignore the bigger picture and chalk up their failure as "just a child thing?"
How do I expand when solving their temper tantrums, fears, fright, and despair?
Setbacks in my family could cause fraying on the expansion cables, which could cause outer spans of trust, thus breaking the bonds held together by trust or destroying the lessons we have learned. Damn, parenting is hard.
If this fraying is still occurring after I adjust my confidence building, this could indicate a looming larger issue, and, more than likely, I'm failing to recognize it. Why do we overlook the things we think are trivial? Ignoring the little things could quickly become a vast structural headache, and without care and nurturing, this large bridge I'm constructing will collapse like London Bridge.
Having the mindset of raising my boys as an architect of a bridge will be a huge benefit for us all in the long run. And I will know this bridge is complete while I sit back and watch their life prosper with the confidence I have extended toward them. A bridge built on trust, listening, and understanding. This will ensure that The Bridge of Life will last for generations.
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