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Of all the men Biddulph has spoken to in his work as a family therapist, less than 10% described their father as a friend. This point alone is one of the main factors leading to the crisis of masculinity we are experiencing.

Basically, Biddulph argues that manhood or masculinity is not an age or stage of life, but a connection to the world of both men and women. If our upbringing has been dominated by women, we’re missing out on half of the equation, and the connection with our fathers, whether we like them or not, forms the basis for our masculinty. His mannerisms, words, attitudes and so on emerge from within us, and if we are at war with Dad, we are at war with ourselves and masculinity itself.

Biddulph calls for deep and open conversation to happen between fathers and sons, for our concept of who our Dad is and what motivated him can be based on many assupmtions - ones that are often wrong. Men are encouraged to explore their father’s past, visit some of the signifcant places, talk to some of his friends, hear the stories of others that have done the same in the hope that the true picture of what shaped him will emerge. Biddulph says, “Even if he was an alcoholic, a wife beater, a child abuser, even if you never met him, your biological father still matters. Until you come to terms with him, he will haunt you from the inside, where he symbollically lives forever.”

Interestingly, Biddulph says that sons have a responsibility to make the first move, for most older men believe that the withdrawn and isolated state that they are in is all that life has to offer. They wait longingly for a real relationship with their son, but go to their graves thinking they have been inadequate human beings, not worth talking to. A contributing factor is the unwitting influence of well-meaning, but mis-guided mothers who single handedly rasied the children. “Leave your father alone for he has been at work all day and is too tired to talk.” And that’s what the son does for the rest of his life.

In the same way the father longs for approval from his son, so to does the son long for approval from his father. The miscommunication and false assumptions from life build seemingly insurmountable barriers, but Biddulph encourages us to scale them. Go camping with Dad and talk. Renovate the laundry with Dad and talk. Go to the races, the beach, on a holiday - do anything it takes to get the two of you together to talk. Reconnect with your male heritage, your manhood.

To finish, Biddulph acknowleges that for some, this is impossible. Dad has died leaving many unanswered questions and a large gaping hole. But men in this situation are still encouraged to find out what they can and utilise the help of counsellors and men’s groups.

I read this chapter a few days ago now and have procrastinated writing anything about it. All I can put it down to is that I have never known anyone to embark on the sort of journey that Biddulph describes. While it seems like sound advice, perhaps even common sense, it seems to me to be a little naive.

That, in itself, is a worry. Because for the last 20 years or so, I’ve seen constantly the damage a broken father/son relationship causes. (Equally I have seen the damage of broken father/daughter realtionships, but we’ll leave that for another time). I see the need for healing. I see the need for reconnection. I see the need for hope. So why do I think it is all but impossible?

But if I was being really honest, I guess I would have to say that it makes me face up to the realtionship I have with my Dad. Compared to some of the things that Biddulph describes, our relationship is pretty good. But even so, there’s an awkwardness. We hug most times we see each other, but there’s a hesitancy and it probably wouldn’t happen if I didn’t make the effort. There are things that Dad said and did when I was a kid, undoubtedly with the best intentions, that caused me to keep things from him later in life, for fear he would be unhappy and try to change what i had decided. Things of faith have been a no-go zone because of the uncomfotableness it causes. I’ve been a full time pastor for seven years now, and it was only last month that my Dad first heard me speak in church. He said he was proud of me, but didn’t comment on what I spoke about. His health is not great and he worries that the genes my children and I have inherited will have a negative impact on our lives - thus he never tells us when he is sick.

Yet, it is slowly changing. Since I have two boys of my own now, Dad is more involved in my life than he has been for a long time. And it is nice to see how happy he is when he looks after my sons. We do things together with my boys and visit his place at least once a week. He is enjoying retired life and so it is probably the best time for us to sit and talk about where we have come from and where we are going.

But, even though our relationship is relatively good, the thought of sitting down and speaking in depth about this scares me to death. Why? I’m not sure. I guess it is rooted in the false assumptions I have set up about Dad. “It will upset him” or “He’s ok and doesn’t need to talk” or “Things will get better on there own.”

I can’t avoid it though. I need to do it. For Dad. For my boys. For me.

I’ll let you know how it goes.