Dads

How sad for some, actually quite a few, gransnetters. To have missed out on loving parents. That is so sad. My dad was a serial womaniser and it made my mum very unhappy but to us children they were just mum and dad and we had a good childhood in spite of their unhappiness. They were fabulous on the dance floor together however, magical to watch. Even after they divorced and married other people they’d still dance beautifully together.

I think this is nonsense. To begin with, many men called up in the services did not actually see any action.

As a long-term serviceman, my DF did see action but it did not mean that any action and trauma he endured changed his personality. He was still a quiet, kind and loving man.

My dad was born in 1934, and orphaned in 39, just before second World War. He was brought up by neighbours who adored him and treated him a a son. Education was important to him- he was the dux of his school. I don't remember him reading to me- someone must have because i could read before I went to school. What he did do, was take my younger brother and me to the library every Saturday morning without fail and modelled a reading environment at home. I miss him to this day

Carbonated

I realised this generation of men was badly affected by the trauma their fathers had to endure. Although their mothers had to suffer the effects of war, it was the men who were expected to face the first hand horror of it. Of course their sons would grow up with second had trauma and often without male figures around them whilst growing up. The daughters also would have grown up with the expectation that men 'provided' and that women did the caring.

I think this is nonsense. To begin with, many men called up in the services did not actually see any action. An army, navy or airforce has a huge tail of logistics, with as many people in it, if not far more , who keep them moving, fed, supplied with vehicles, food, clothes ammunition, medicaal care, transport etc. It includes people who build airstrips, lay water mains, build roads and load and load stores of boats and planes and trains.

Then there are the men wh are not called up because they are in the reserved occupations or cannot serve for other reasons.

Then there were all the women who served in some form in the forces or land army or building weapons, or nursing in hospitals or making bread. Many of these were married women and nurseries were built to look after their children.

Yes, there were fatherless families, but I doubt it was any worse than it is now. As for a generation of women growing up thinking their job is to care. I just pre-date the Boomer genration, but only by a year or two and it was, the war baby, as we were called, and the boomer generation women who were the break out generation demanding jobs and equality with men, moving into professions like law and finance - and engineering and staying or returning to it after they had children.
For most of my working life, I was a pioneer in

More of us than you think pinkprincess

Kate1949

My 'dad' was a violent, abusive, drunken, horrible man. The thought of him reading to or playing with us is laughable.

So was my father.I know exactly what you mean.

My father was from Southern Ireland so didn't serve in the war. His family were kind, gentle farming people. Then there was him.

My grandfathers served in ww1, my father a royal marine on the Mediterranean fleet. All involved in active service, dad in the invasion of Sicily
They were kind, gentle men. They observed Remembrance together. They were good role models in our family

I realised this generation of men was badly affected by the trauma their fathers had to endure
In the main, I think the fathers we are discussing on this thread were of an age to serve in WW2
Mine served in WW1 as well.

He was still kind and caring.

I realised this generation of men was badly affected by the trauma their fathers had to endure. Although their mothers had to suffer the effects of war, it was the men who were expected to face the first hand horror of it. Of course their sons would grow up with second had trauma and often without male figures around them whilst growing up. The daughters also would have grown up with the expectation that men 'provided' and that women did the caring.

Annofarabia

I was an orphan at four. I went to live with my mother’s brother and his younger second wife. I lived there for nine years and he never spoke to me once!

Good grief! That sounds impossible! I am sorry that this was your experience of childhood.

I was an orphan at four. I went to live with my mother’s brother and his younger second wife. I lived there for nine years and he never spoke to me once!

I remember once when visiting parents-in-law with our three year old (only grandchild to them). She wanted granddad to read her a story which he was very willing to do and delighted in the opportunity. When she sat on his knee, with the chosen book, grandma put a stop to it saying " I don't think you should do that, after all you never know what you might be accused of these days" I was flabbergasted. Did she think our 3 year old would accuse him of inappropriate behaviour? Did she think that I would or her son? My father in law was the nicest man by the way.

Neither bothered. I was "fed and watered" and otherwise ignored. Dad worked hard and mum was not that way.

We moved when DS was 8, and they thought he was backward, so I did a remedial reading tutoring and understanding learning difficulties courses sponsored by his school. He was NOT backward, it was just a different way of teaching phonics & spelling in bilingual schools - it comes after 8. He picked up from reading age 6 to 12 in 8 weeks of paired reading and insertion techniques.
When DD started reading I did the same out of habit, so sadly her mild dyslexia was masked, until picked up by her college.

I now volunteer in my local school (plug for Schoolreaders, who need volunteers, to just pop in and hear children read - no skills needed except an ability to sit and listen)

My father never read to me. My mother did occasionally until I went to school. They were quite distant as parents. Once my mother went to work, when I was about nine, I came home from school to an empty house. After a week at work, including
some evenings and Saturday mornings, my mother didn’t want to do much. My father sometimes took me out for walks and cycle runs, but there was no conversation. They weren’t abusive, but weren’t interested in what I was doing or how I was feeling. They grew up in large families where there would have been little personal attention, so they carried this forward, sadly.

So they can, and were!

It is interesting ... and sad ... that so many of our generation had parents who found it hard to show affection to their children. I wonder how this influenced our parenting. I know I went out of my way to sing and read with my children, to cuddle them lots, to tell them how much I loved them, to establish rituals that gave them a sense of security. They have grown up to be warm and loving parents yo their children I am happy to say... so cycles can be broken.

My mum was like yours UTBB although she could be physically abusive too. My dad was much more calm but remote and never tried to change mum. She was totally different with my youngest brother.

I envy those of you who had loving parents who did things with them.

My dad did not read to me. He had an odd long hours work shift pattern job. B7t my mother did on a daily basis.from being a baby.
Wonderful memories.

Several years later, when dad had more sociable shifts and my sister arrived.

He used to take her to the local library every Saturday afternoon to get a couple of new books which he read with her through week after tea.

I remember her loving the Moomins. Dick Brunhs books and the Cat in the Hat.

Reading with your parents as a child is irreplaceable.

A huge gift

Xxx

My dad didn't read to me, my mum did, a book called 365 bedtime stories. They were really short (suited mum's attention span!) but she did read to me regularly & give me a bedtime kiss.(unless I'd been naughty).

My dad though used to sing to me at bedtime & bathtime -Eidelweiss & Now the day is Over & The Farmers Boy. He also was quite happy to have us on the farm with him, in the cowshed or on the tractor or motorbike, unless he was doing something more than usually difficult or dangerous.

He was such a lovely dad, and in my large extended family, most of my uncles were also quietly funny, gentle & good with us children. So when I used to stay with my schoolfriend at secondary school, I was puzzled by the tension in the family and her (controlling) father. Just hadn't encountered that family dynamic before (all complicit in "don't upset Dad"). In our family it was "keep out of mum's way till Dad gets home", if she was in a mood. I expect my friend found that strange too, her mum was as sweet as a nut.

Neither Mum or Dad read to us and I cant remember cuddles at all. I checked this out with my younger sister who is more realistic and maybe fairer than me.
Neither of them was bitter nor taking resentments out on us, and never cruel, but basically they were just not really interested in us 4 children as little people with strengths and weaknesses and our own little ways. there was never any time for little moments with either parent where we were able to confide our little selves and know it was just OK to be us.

We were taken to piano and ballet lessons, we are taken to learn to swim, they were very keen on education - but in retrospect operated a sort of system of approval and disapproval rather than love and compassion. Nevertheless less it was a stable and fair environment, but for a long time I confused approval (and control) with love, which is very different.

What was missing was a sense that life is here to be enjoyed and rich simply for itself, not all the things we "ought to be"...

But much older -and this to me is crucial - I could and can see how they were brought up, what made them into the people they were, how their parenting had affected them as people and as parents, and then of course, forgiveness

Terribull - bits if your post resonate with me. Like dreading hearing dad opening the front door wondering what mood it would be after his daily pub visits. One abiding memory throughout childhood was mum telling me to shush whenever dad was there. I remember being scared to death just hearing the words - shush he's coming in now. His big leather belt was permanently hung up in the hall as a reminder of what would happen if I made any noise so childhood slipped by in silence. Funnily enough, it was always mum who would give me a good thrashing with that belt though. For a long time I thought the life I had was what all children had so it's heartwarming to read of such lovely childhood memories.

Both my parents were like this . They never told us that they loved us . They never hugged or cuddled us that iI remember BUT I knew that they loved me and grew up happy .
The thing that does bother me is that we were never praised for achieving anything . They were proud but never told us so . Both my brother and I passed the eleven plus and went to our first pick of grammar schools but I didn’t realise that this meant I was quite clever . I thought I was dim so didn’t try at school and wasn’t encouraged by my parents to do so . I left with 4 pretty rubbish O levels.
It was only at the age of 35 that I did a test to get into nursing that I found out that at that time I had an IQ of 140 , as told to me by an interviewer at one of the hospitals that I had applied to .
My brothers are equally as clever but it was only the much younger brother that went to university.
My parents have both been dead for over 20 years now and are much missed . I loved them very much even without the cuddles 🥰.

My Dad never read to me or played games of any sort. He was a distant man and very Victorian really. Most interactions were of him reprimanding me for something or other. In many ways he treated me more like a boy. I don't remember my mum ever reading to me either and she certainly never played games or did cooking or crafting with me. I think they thought discipline and a good education at school was sufficient.

My dad was a lovely, gentle man, he had lots of health problems and we often saw him going off to work quite ill but he wouldn't take time off. He was totally unselfish but neither he nor my mother ever read to any of us children.