I was thinking about what it means to be a real man, and whether or not I am one.

Being a man is complex, we are pilgrims and lost souls,

no one teaches us how to be a real man,

we have few models or inspirations.

Not the angry men in Washington.

Not the angry pundits on television.

Not the giant men who crash into each other on playing fields.

Not the corporate machines who live by their bottom lines.

Not the movie stars living their surreal and tormented lives.

Not the men who buy big guns and show them around.

What is a real man to me?

It think it’s what women in my life say to me, my wife, my daughter, my granddaughter.

and what they say about me when I am gone.

My wife:

He supported me, encouraged me, loved me, was always there when I needed him to be there,

he thought of me every day and treated me with respect. He loved my body and celebrated it.

He never frightened me or took me for granted or made me feel small or worthless.

He was a real man.

He made me feel loved. He made me feel safe.

My daughter:

He told me I could be anything I wished to be, he welcomed my voice and nourished it,

he was a calm and safe place for me in a turbulent world. He was there when I needed him. I took him for granted. He made me feel strong, he cherished my voice.

I love him, but do not need him any longer.

He was a real man. I never heard him denigrate any women, make fun of how she looked, sought power over her.

To My granddaughter.

Remember me, even though I might be in shadow and mist for  you.

Remember that I struggled every day to be a real man, to love openly, to nurture, support and encourage. To love my friends and the people around me. To walk gently on the earth with a big heart and an open soul. Real men write all the time, and seek to make the world a safer and more peaceful place. Real men follow the color and the light whenever it goes. Real men love to love.

Real men know that love is giving, not taking, listening, not shouting, giving things up, not taking them. Real men do not hurt other people.

Real me can bear the worst of themselves, they can change. Real men say they are sorry.

Real men are soft rocks, they bend but do not break. You can stand on them and lean on them.

I hope I was a real man.