Growing up, John Wayne’s voice was never a stranger in my home.
My Grandpa, who I always referred to as one of the last authentic cowboys, raised my dad to see life through a true Old West lens. Hunting, fishing, camping, guns, horses, cattle and of course, a great western movie were the tools he chose for teaching life’s lessons to my dad. My dad’s fatherhood toolbox was not too far off. Add football to the mix and his toolbox was very similar. The methods for using these tools were sometimes different but nonetheless they served as the avenues that my brother and I learned from as boys. Our favorite when we were little was watching the old western movies with Dad. Usually, John Wayne would appear in our living room about five minutes after we were put to bed. Dad worked hard all day as a welder. After dinner, family time and eventually bedtime, Dad unwound with The Duke. Often, we would sneak out of bed and just quietly sit on the floor hoping he didn’t say anything to us. Sometimes he didn’t. If he was lying on the couch, we could crawl down the hall and next to the end table and he wouldn’t know we were there. Other times we would find Dad snoring on the couch and the movie still playing.
One of Dad’s VHS staples was The Cowboys. In this movie Wil Andersen (John Wayne), as a last resort, hires young boys to help him on a 400-mile cattle drive. I’m not sure if Dad meant to use this movie as a teaching tool or not, but if so, it worked. My brother and I watched this one over and over. We still make references and inside jokes to scenes and quotes from the movie to this day. One scene always stuck with me due to the emotion and being one of the rare times (…spoiler alert!) John Wayne’s character dies. Now, as a dad, I understand its significance. As Mr. Andersen is dying, the boys huddle around him as he gives these last imparting words,
“I’m proud of ya…All of ya. Every man wants his children to be better’n he was. You are.”
Mr. Andersen was a very hard man who led these boys with a bold, no nonsense demeanor. Tough love. The boys hated him. But after their journey from boyhood to manhood, which apparently only takes a little over two hours in Hollywood, they loved and respected him. They understood that he was doing what every father should do; equip his children.
When I watch this movie with my sons, I always talk about this scene with them. I explain to them that I want the same for them. I really do want my sons to be better than me. In some ways they already are. My sons have been through some tough situations that I didn’t experience as a kid. I am amazed at their resiliency, their boldness and their joy. Its important to note that “being better than me” is not a pressure I put on my boys or some goal that my boys must achieve someday. Rather, it’s on me. Just like Mr. Andersen, one of my roles as a father is to equip my boys with the tools they need to one day be the best husbands, fathers and friends they can be.
Unfortunately, men/fathers are often accused of not expressing themselves fully, or, at all. Many times, fathers leave it to their loved ones to guess or figure out how they feel or what they’re thinking. In a few words I believe Mr. Andersen powerfully said everything he meant. The young men understood exactly. What he told these boys is that he had taken them as far as he could. He had equipped them. Whatever he had accomplished in life they could accomplish more. Whatever he could reach they could reach further. They’re men now, and they’re ready. To top it off, he said the words that can fill any boy’s tank from empty to full, “I’m proud of ya.”
I want my sons to be equipped to reach farther than I can. Imagine yourself standing with your hands stretched toward the sky. Your reaching up. Now imagine your son standing on your shoulders with his hands reaching even higher. Equipping your son is like letting him stand on your shoulders; for life. What if you’re highest reach became his ground zero?
My dad passed his toolbox on to me. I use those tools. I’ve added some new ones. One day I’ll pass that toolbox to my sons.
You may not have had a toolbox passed down to you.
This is a good day to start one.
