Jim Higley

I’ve been a dad exactly half of my life.

The present is all we have – for certain. Investing in the here and now has huge pay-offs.

But somewhere along the dad path I made a strategic shift – and if it were a bumper sticker that shift would read: “Shit Happens. Deal With It.”

Words matter. To all of us. My only wish is that somehow, some way, I could give those same words once given to me to every young boy and girl.

I cried, mainly, because I had forgotten the way my father made me feel every day of my life.

For the multitude of voices that spoke publicly about Muhammad Ali, it was the voices of his own children, the ones who called him “Dad,” that touched me the most. He was a hero because his children said he was a hero.

The reality is that many are still not comfortable seeing men as caring and nurturing parents.

And just remember, the love of your life will be nothing like Christian Grey. He’ll be better.

It’s the funny, unexpected twist of parenting. You kids come into our lives. Helpless. Dependent. And along with that we are given a feeling of value and importance because we are needed.

it’s been through their words that they’ve created a wave. A wave of love. A wave of support. A wave to say that — while we may not have the power to change things — we have the power to help.

Parents matter. My mom showed me that no matter how long we all have on this planet, we have the ability to impact our children. Forever.

Maybe it’s the most basic kind of love. A love that says, “I will do anything for you. Including cleaning up your vomit in the middle of the night.”