When my first son was born, my life instantly stopped being all about me. It's a stereotype that marriage is a selfless, team-driven exercise, but let me tell you, nothing prepared me for the selflessness that comes with fatherhood. I knew in that moment that I would take a bullet for him without hesitation. And as he gazed up at me with those big, curious eyes, I knew that I had to be a big part of his life and show him the wonders of the world.
So, from the moment he could support his own head, he was strapped to my chest in a Baby Bjorn, and we'd bash our way through local suburban bushland, blissfully ignorant of his fragility and the threat of sharp sticks and potential falls. As soon as he could walk, I taught him to swim, surf, and drive a small petrol-powered quad bike. And as he grew older, our adventures became more daring. We'd ski off-piste and find our own path through dense woods, go tramping and camp in the snow of Victoria's high country.
But it was when he stood atop Poon Hill in Nepal, 13 years old and in emotional awe, that he exclaimed he had heard a choir of angels and wanted to up the ante and climb a big mountain next. The spirit of adventure was alive and kicking in him, and I loved that he wanted more. So, in 2017, we went to Africa to climb Mount Kilimanjaro. It was a mammoth undertaking with a 45-65% failure rate, and we watched many climbers coughing up blood and being evacuated from the mountain. But despite our creeping fear, we pushed on.
We witnessed each other at our most vulnerable, and on one particular high altitude day, he really suffered and appeared broken. It looked like the end of the line for him, and I had to make one of the most significant decisions of my parenting life. Do I push him to the top and expose him to a very real danger in the process, does he wait at camp while I go for the summit, or do we throw in the towel and make our way back down? In the end, he resolutely decided for me and was determined to keep going. At that moment, I witnessed the birth of a resilient young man who, in the face of adversity, proved to himself and the world that there was nothing he couldn't do.
Reaching the summit of Kilimanjaro with him was hands down one of the proudest moments of my life. Through our adventures, I've watched my son grow and develop into a confident, curious, and resilient young man. He's learned valuable life skills, such as sociability, problem-solving, decision-making, and teamwork. He's also gained a deep appreciation and respect for nature, history, and culture.
But perhaps the most important thing that our adventures have taught my son is that he can always count on me to be there for him, no matter what. Whether we're facing a challenging hike, an awkward decision, or just the ups and downs of everyday life, we know that we can rely on each other for support, encouragement, and love.
As a father, I feel incredibly grateful for the time that I've been able to spend with him on our adventures. These experiences have taken us away from the humdrum of everyday life and allowed us to bond in ways that would have been impossible otherwise. We've shared laughter and tears, triumphs and failures, and everything in between.
To those fathers who may not have had the opportunity to go on adventures with their children I would urge you to make the time. Whether it's a simple walk in the park or climbing a monster mountain, spending time together and building that bond is crucial. It's never too late to start.
And to those sons who might be hesitant to embark on adventures with their fathers, I would say this: give the old fella a chance! You might be surprised at how much fun you have, how much you learn, and how much closer you become. So go on, take that first step, and see where it leads you. The bond you'll build will last a lifetime, and it will be one of the most rewarding experiences of your life.
Comments