This article by Barry first appeared as a columnist submission in the Waterloo Region Record on July 15, 2019.

My 47th Father’s Day intersects with the recent passage of my 75th birthday, a milestone that started me on a journey of remembrance from childhood to adolescence, to parenting and grandparenting.

There are those who suggest that today’s 75 is really 60. My response is that the advocates of that position don’t have a rapidly declining golf game, nor four grandchildren between the ages of two and nine.

Twenty-eight years ago, I became a separated dad. It was a profound experience and continues to be almost three decades later.

On my office desk are pictures of my six grandchildren and they are a daily reminder of my family’s journey to this time and place.

A picture taken by my son-in-law captured my three-year-old granddaughter and I, hand in hand, quietly watching the magical sunset on the Gulf of Mexico. My eyes misted over for I knew that my father and gramps were on that beach, hand in hand with us through their gifts of love forever, through whatever.

Once the worst of the chaos and a semblance of normalcy and calm were restored following the separation, I committed to supporting families one by one, and ensuring that every child has both parents and extended families in their daily lives.

The mission of our little agency is based on a basic belief that separating parents can love their children more than they are angry with the other parent, provided the right supports are available.

Barack Obama articulated the transformation and aspirational mission of every dad when he penned the following in an open letter to his two daughters in 2009, prior to his inauguration. “But then the two of you came into my world with all your curiosity and mischief and those smiles that never fail to fill my heart and light up my day. And suddenly, all my big plans for myself didn’t seem so important anymore. I soon found that the greatest joy in my life was the joy I saw in yours. And I realized that my own life wouldn’t count for much unless I was able to ensure that you had every opportunity for happiness and fulfilment in yours.”

My transformational experience to fatherhood began almost 48 years ago through the adoption process. My son was placed in my arms by a Children’s Aid worker. She left the two-month-old infant with us for 10 minutes and returned to ask: Do you want to take him home? She didn’t seem to understand – that infant became my son forever, the moment he was placed in my arms. I still recall feeding him his first bottle and the radio appropriately playing the “Teddy Bears’ Picnic” and “Brahms Lullaby.” Tears of joy were my companion that day.

One child, in time, became three and 25 years later a new, joyful role began – I became a grandpa; now I have six grandchildren.

There is a wonderful description that captures the role of parents and grandparents: Necessary to the completeness of the whole.

Supporting integral parenting relationships through a family separation should be the mission of family law and social services. Unfortunately, it is unclear that ensuring integral, parenting relationships for separated dads is in any way a priority.

In a report in 2010, the Law Commission of Ontario offered a frightening conclusion from the users of the family law legal system. It suggested that too often solvable problems turn into unsolvable outcomes. The devastating consequences are unnecessary conflict and chaos that too often leads to interrupted parenting or worse – almost always for dads and paternal grandparents.

There is a basic question that divorce lawyers, Family and Children’s Services, counsellors, assessors etc. need to answer. Are the dad and the paternal grandparents a necessary, integral partner in the completeness of their child’s and grandchild’s life? I wonder who celebrates and advocates for separated single dads, whatever their parenting time, within these bodies. I fear the response is too often a shrug, or it’s time to move on. The message given to children is that the dad is not essential to their lives.

My father was an imperfect, flawed, loving, supportive and integral parent and an almost perfect grandpa to five. He suffered a massive stroke 12 hours after visiting this still wounded and vulnerable son, two months before my remarriage.

The chaos over three years claimed him as yet another victim. His last conscious act was to be my dad at the age of 76; to continue to be the integral parent and grandparent. He is my model and symbolizes the desire of every dad and grandfather that has graced my life.