Your dad.

Yup, your father, the man partially responsible for your presence in this world.

His Dad.

Your father's father, the man partially responsible for your presence in this world.

...and his dad!

Your father's father's father, the man partially responsible for your presence in the world.

You and me each come from a long line of fathers

And, maybe you're already a father yourself.

Or, maybe you shall one day become a father.

Regardless, you are part and parcel of a long lineage of fathers.

And sons.

You are a son.

Your father is a son.

Your father's father is a son.

Your father's father's father is a son.

Is, rather than was, (when the case) because deceased or alive, the energetic presence of each of these men in your ancestral field is active, regardless of your awareness of their presence and regardless of their physical presence (or lack thereof) in your life.

....

As of late, I've become aware of the need for me, Ken, to be the father I never had. I'm literally learning how to father myself. To come to rely on myself, and stand on my own two feet, in ways that my father was never able to do...and ways that until now, I haven't been able to do.

I'm literally, like a bird learning to fly, showing myself that I can do what my father was never able to do, for himself, and for his children.

I'm fathering my inner child, have been for a while.

I'm also learning to father the 34-year-old man that I am...

Because every man, regardless of age, is "his always his daddy's little boy" and always being fathered, regardless of his father's presence.

That 76-year-old man is no less his "daddy's little boy" than when he was 36.

I'm growing, I'm evolving, and I'm healing... yet as I become the father I never had, I also release my father from the role of who he never was, so he can be who he is.

So I can be the son he never had.

...and sometimes, this is really fucking hard. To let him simply be and to accept him as he is. To let myself be, and to accept myself exactly as I am.

There's a crack in the foundation of my being...a tender place I wished he had filled with just a little bit more concrete, but sadly, never did.

That shaky, unstable, frail place within my being.

Sometimes it feels like a crack and sometimes it feels like there’s no foundation at all.

I honor what it is for you.

or There's this sense, that no matter how solid the rest of the foundation if I'm not attentive to my steps, the foundation of my being could crumble. There's a possibility for catastrophe at any moment.

I, Ken, have lived with this crack my entire life, the crack of who my father never was.

My father, Alan, lived with this crack, the crack of who his father never was.

My father's father, Kenneth, lived with this crack, the crack of who his father never was.

My father's father's father, Jack, lived with this crack, the crack of who is father never was.

I honor the spoken and unspoken cracks in our lineage.

I honor that some men were aware of their cracks, while others were completely ignorant, deluded into their own stories of grandiose.

I honor that some tried their best to repair the cracks, while others couldn't care less, unwilling to even acknowledge, let alone claim responsibility for the faulty foundation.

I honor myself as I learn to be the father I never had.

...and I honor you, yes you, for becoming the father you never had.

And, I acknowledge that as I learn to father myself, I learn, like a tradesman, how to repair the cracks to the foundation I inherited, from Alan, from Kenneth, from Jack, and from the father's of the fathers' of the father's of the father's to the beginning of time.

I honor that what I'm doing isn't just for me, but for every man that came before me, and every man that shall come after me.

And in repairing this crack...

The one I can see.
The one I can feel.
The one, that left unattended by me, will only continue to grow.

I am healing my heart.

I am healing the hearts of the men who brought me into this world.

I and we are healing the hearts of the men, of the fathers, of the sons, of the boys, and the children we came from.

That we are.

All of them, including the unnamed.

Yes.

All of them.

You can see the original Facebook post here.