Doing for my father what he didn't do for me
"What's your favorite color?"
"None, I don't have one."
I always get the impression that my father is a slightly odd person.
So he doesn't have a favorite color. I asked him about that when I was very young and I thought his reply was the weirdest thing ever. I really don't know much about him. For example, whatever hobbies he has, he usually keeps to himself.
A common type of conversation we've had since I was a kid starts when one of us shares something with the other--something that one of us is proud of. Usually a project or an achievement.
But when I'm the sharer during these "hey, look at this!" conversations, I always leave feeling really dejected. For the longest time I've found the feeling hard to understand. I worked so hard on something and showed it to someone who cares for me. What's going wrong?
I finished a pretty large software project recently. I discussed it with my father prior and had implemented many of the architecture suggestions he gave. But the moment I showed him my final product, he, like a teacher, just started poking at it. Making neutral remarks and pointing out issues in my design choices. Then testing it against malicious usages to evaluate my diligence.
The interaction easily surpassed the hour mark, and at some point in the middle I had grabbed a sheet of paper to record my father's observations with. But while holding the pen and looking at my notes, only another thought rang in my mind: At no point did my father ever praise my project, ever. Really. By that point I was listening for anything, even as simple as a "good job!" or a "wow!". But I never heard it.
In short, I never leave these conversations with the praise I was looking for.
As I'm just a kid, nothing among all the stuff I've shown my father was truly noteworthy. But people don't want judgment when they show off something of theirs. They just want to be praised for it, even when it's subpar. But my father is really pragmatic.
A depressing observation about this is that, it's not like I can bring this up to my father. To give such a praise is, frankly, to lie. So I'm supposed to ask him to lie to me? At that point, any praise he does give me will have no value at all--to me, and to him. Like all lies, this lie only works when the only one in on it is the one uttering it.
Now, telling my father about this lie would actually benefit anyone my father talks to--except me. Would I sacrifice my pride to slightly better all of his relationships? That's an interesting thought. I don't really know how selfless I'm willing to be.
I might do so just for the sake of my younger brother. He still has several more years with the family. Matter of fact, I've behaved towards my brother much like how my father did towards me. I regret it.
Anyways, there's one thing I can immediately do with this lie: to tell it to my father. Because he, in a similar manner, often approaches me with things he made. I've made a rule for myself on how to react: recognition first, questions later. Before anything else, I exclaim the "wow"s and "cool"s I never hear from him. I also try to find more specific praises, like commenting on a unique way he did something. And only after that do I begin to mention questions and points for improvement.
I've been aware, on some level, that sometimes the kindest thing you can do is to lie. But I've underestimated how much I wanted people to lie to me, specifically. I wish more would understand that there's no need to be so pedantic all the time. It costs nothing to let people have their moment, even when they don't deserve it.