Like the thorn in a rose, lessons born of pain often stick with us most.

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Our Savvy Dad guest today, Dr. Michael LeBoeuf, is a best-selling author. Sometimes a father’s gift is by example of what not to do.

In his own words, Michael takes it from here:

“In many ways my father was a very good family man. He and my mother were married almost 63 years. He was faithful to my mother and brought home every penny he earned.  

He was honest, did not drink nor gamble and kept us out of debt. We always had a roof over our heads and food to eat despite the fact that he had only an 8th grade education.

However, in other ways my father had his shortcomings. He was a salesman who jumped from job to job, never staying with anything long enough to be successful.

The idea of having a plan and the self-discipline to stick with it was totally off of his radar. We always lived in rental housing except for a 6-month period when I was 3-years-old.

My father built a house during WW II and sold it shortly after. Between my 4th and 6th birthdays, we lived in 9 different residences in 4 different cities ranging from Virginia to Texas.

When I was in high school and spent money on something he would tell me, “A fool and his money are soon parted.” Ironically, he and my mother spent the last 20 years of their lives living on one Social Security check.

Whenever my sister or I asked why we seemed to have less money than other families, the excuse was always the same: It took everything he earned to provide for my sister and me. We were often reminded of what a struggle it is to have a family.

When the day came for my parents to drive me to college for my freshman year, my father had a temper tantrum and refused to take me. My aunt bailed me out and she and my mother brought me.

My mother didn’t drive and neither did I. One way my father controlled the family was by being the only driver. As a result, my older sister and I did not drive until we were in our twenties.

When he was in his late 50’s, I heard him say, “I need to think about putting money away for retirement.” I was in my mid-20’s and thought, “This poor guy doesn’t have a clue.”

Years later when I was a university professor and told him I was going to write a book he said, “You aren’t planning to make any money with that book, are you?” I dedicated my first book to my parents. He told me he didn’t read it, nor did he read any of the others I wrote after that.

When I was in grad school, someone told me about a visit she had with my father. She said that all he talked about was how well I was doing. He was clearly very proud but the news came as a shock to me.

He finally did tell me that he was proud of me when he was 84 and I was 51. It was great to hear but it would have meant a lot more if I had heard it much earlier in life.

My mother, on the other hand, was a saint. She believed in me, protected, encouraged and supported me. She read every page of every book I wrote while she was alive. She was a very bright woman with whom I could communicate.

My mother was a homemaker but got a job so I could go to college and focus on studying without having to worry about working. Thanks to her I was able to go through undergrad school debt free.

While my mother was very willing to work so I could go away to college, she was no pushover. She made it very clear that this was a one-time offer. If I ever quit college and then decided I wanted to go back, it would be up to me to pay for it.

She put it this way: “You can study hard now, get a good education and have a great life, or be like us and struggle for the rest of your life.” Shortly before I left for college she gave me a cartoon drawing of a farmer watching a dog, who is in hot pursuit of a rabbit. The farmer asked, “Rabbit, are you gonna make it?”

The rabbit replied, “Make it? I gotta make it!” The message to me was clear. I was the rabbit and made it my business to graduate.

I financed graduate school with summer jobs, student loans and an assistantship. I was determined to never live the kind of life my father lived.

My mother never said anything but I suspect she was thinking the same thing. When I walked across the graduation stage for the final time to get my Ph.D., I thought to myself, “Thanks, Mom. Your boy is going to be just fine.”

Sometimes fathers leave us a gift by teaching us what not to do when we become parents. I would encourage every father to reflect back on his own dad’s strengths and shortcomings.

Resolve to practice and improve on the positives and stay away from the negatives as much as possible. A wise person learns from example and contrast.

As for my personal story, the most important message I leave with you with is this:

Be careful what you tell your children about how tough it is to be a parent if you ever hope to someday have grandchildren. Children, who get the message that kids are a burden, are more likely to opt out of becoming moms and dads. I chose to be childless and my sister had only one child who was likely unplanned. I suspect the messages we received as children had a lot to do with that.

And one final thought: financial support is important but emotional support is critical. Your children may forget what you say or do, but they will never forget how you made them feel.

Good luck, Savvy Dads. You have one of the two most important jobs in the world.”

 

Learning a Lesson by Contrast