My father was a believer in preparing his kids for the things they would face as they got older, as much as his experiences would allow him to teach. He answered the questions that he could, even when it embarrassed him, and he admitted it when he just didn't have the answer. There were roadblocks he never could have seen coming—my sister announcing her pregnancy at not quite 18 at the dinner table, like it was an expected and welcome event, my brother's ongoing fight against addiction—but he did the best he could with the resources he had. And through everything, he protected my mother against the things that would upset her the most or break her heart.

She couldn't be shielded from the birth of her first grandchild (and after the shock and anger had worn off, his birth was welcomed and celebrated) but she never really knew the scope of my brother's problems; she knew he had anger issues and blamed herself (I still don't know why) and she was somewhat aware that he was better off not drinking, but she never knew how many times he was in rehab or to the extent his instability ran. She never knew, because my father bent over backwards to make sure she was never too hurt or too upset by the stupid things her children did.

I never quite understood this as a teenager, when I realized what he was doing, though as an adult I can appreciate his efforts even if I think they were sometimes misguided. She'd had one major emotional devastation early on in their marriage, when their first baby died just days after being born, and it cemented his determination to protect her from whatever other pain he could.

Women, he told me frequently, are to be cherished, and they are to be adored. This was something he gently pounded into my brother and me, and to my brother's credit he did believe it and treated (until he fell completely into addiction) the women in his life very well. He will screw with my head as much as he can, but he is very nearly tender with our sister; I don't want him speaking with my sons on the phone, but I know that if my daughter answers, he won't pull any of his bullshit. I think the only woman he has ever mistreated is my ex-wife, and that only because she chose someone else over him when we split. He had hopes that there was the possibility of a relationship there, and she dashed them. But, that's a long story in of itself.

I learned most of my parenting skills from my father, I think. He was tough when we screwed up, tender when he needed to be, and always available to talk with. There was nothing I couldn't ask him, from simple things like how to tie my shoes when I was 4, religious musings at 8, sex at 14, marriage when I was 22 and headed down that aisle.

His guidance didn't end when “I do” came out of my mouth; if anything I found I needed to talk to him more often. As a teenager I knew everything and didn't ask him nearly as much as I could have, but as a newly married young adult, I was confused half the time and he was the one I turned to. Sometimes he laughed (Aye, what? You expected to be any good the first time? It's the blind leading the blind, son. You'll get better at it and she'll stop counting to five soon enough.) but mostly he reminded me of what was more important. Cherish her, son, everything else will follow.

I failed more than I succeeded, obviously, but I always believed that he was right. This is one thing I want more than anything to pass onto my children; I want my daughter to grow up knowing that she is worthy of being loved that deeply, that whomever she ends up with will only be the right one if he does cherish everything about her, and adores her in spite of the few bad days that everyone gets. I want both of my sons to have this as a fundamental part of who they are; I want it to be hardwired into their DNA, that they don't just treat women with respect, but feel that women deserve every bit of it.

Lately, I've come to understand how difficult it probably was for my father to drive that point home without beating my brother and me over the head with it. I see Alex with his girlfriend, and all I can do is hope that he's learned this well, and that he doesn't fall into the same indifference that some his friends seem to have. I never want him to view any woman as just someone to hookup with; I want him to step back and take the time to get to know them.

Just because I took the (unusual, even then) route of waiting until I had married, I don't expect my kids to. But I do want them to wait for relationships, and as archaic as it sounds, for their own sakes I want them to wait for love. Alex at 14 is no where near ready for that kind of relationship, but if he's still with Stephanie when he's 16, I won't be happy about it, but I'll understand it. If I'm honest with myself (and with him) I can admit that my 16 year old self would have happily had sex if my ex had been willing.

In the same light, I don't want him to think it's all right to walk away if he thinks he's ready and she isn't. If he cares, he waits, and if he's that far into a relationship that he's seriously considering sex, then he cares.

I don't want Rachel to ever believe a line like You would if you loved me.

And in a more complicated situation, I don't want Kevin to wallow in the confusion I'm fairly certain he's headed for.

I think Alex has the right ideas in his head and in his heart; he and I argue and are at odds a lot, but he treats his mother with considerable respect, and he's protective of Rachel and gentle with her feelings. I'm not worried now about what he pushes his girlfriend to do; I'm not sure about six months from now when he'll be sure he loves her. I don't doubt that he does; I doubt he realizes it's not enough.

My father was right; I will never do anything more important than raise these kids. And while he never said it outright, I know that most of what success I will have as a father is dependent on my success as a husband, and I know it because he lead by example.

I never doubted how he felt about my mother, and I could see it between then every day. He adored her, something that was obvious even when they were fighting, and he cherished every moment they had together. When she died I thought it would break him, but to give into that would, he said, be a betrayal to her. He intended to honor her even if he mourned her.

That is grace I'm not sure I have, but how I feel about my wife is no secret. And how I feel is something I want our kids to see every day; I never want them to doubt that their mother is loved beyond reason, and that without her I would be empty. I want them to see this not just because of the truth of it, but because if they see it everyday, then hopefully they'll know it's what they deserve, too.