In reading some of the articles about men and femininity, I find myself wondering exactly what the true subject is. Are we talking about men showing emotion and a softer side or is the subject men having feminine ways, whatever that may be defined as? I’m honestly not sure I even like the topic that seems to put things at odds from the beginning. Again, I’m not sure if the subject is truly gender or just emotion.

I’ve grown up very aware of the traditional roles that men and women play. I know exactly what the strong, man of the house is supposed to be, as well as the gentile lady. However, that’s usually far from the reality. The gentile lady routine is nice for a stereotypical movie, but a look at our history shows very strong women from the beginning of time. Off the top of my head, there were the wives of World War II who did things that back then were inconceivable for a female to do, but they kept the USA rolling while their men were fighting for our freedoms.

As for the man, I just don’t understand why a strong, man of the house is supposed to mean an insensitive male who never shows emotion or helps out. That doesn’t make sense, either in the definition of a being a man or a life partner.

Close to home, I look to my parents, who lived a long and happy life together. Both fit those male and female roles perfectly and yet, they both broke the mold, too. Mom was the belle of the ball and the life of the parties. She never even wanted to get married. She was quite happy making her own way in the world, but Dad changed her mind. Dad grew up making his way, having a slew of adventures, and wanting to help people along the way. Both of my parents were devoted to their parents and could cry at a drop of a hat upon thinking about them once they were gone from this Earth.

Back to the point, Mom worked the 8 to 5 job as a secretary and personal assistant. She took her work seriously, and she was heavily relied on at her business. Dad was a teacher, and while he could have been home early, he stayed beyond his required time to always help those who needed help. Yes, that made Sis and me latch key kids, but that was an era when that wasn’t as unsafe as it is now. The point here is that Dad left later and got home earlier than my mother. Here’s what I remember.

Early every morning, Dad made breakfast. He was the cook. As Mom readied herself for work, he went out every morning, rain or shine, and started her car for her. She never stepped into a cold car when he was alive. When Dad come home, he started on dinner, which was ready when Mom got home. Mom rarely cooked. On the weekends, Dad did the laundry. Mom would polish her silver and dust. Dad vacuumed. Bathroom duties were split, depending on their mood. Meals were cooked by my father, but my mother was his helper. She’d divide up the hamburger and put them into patties. She’d fetch the vegetables and start to peel or do whatever she could in that way. She turned on the oven. Washing dishes was another split chore.

Outside duties were handled by my father. Mom wasn’t an outdoorsy type, so Dad took care of everything that could be considered outdoor cleaning. He always took the garbage out. The one thing Mom did, for some odd reason, was the poop scoop on the dogs, but that was actually something she started doing more in later years than earlier ones.

Mom paid the bills. This was her specialty. She was organized and knew how to keep records. She made the budget and kept us going in that regard. Shopping was a split chore, where groceries were concerned. Both of my parents would go to the market fto keep us stocked in food and supplies. Gifts, however, were essentially my mother’s duty.

Dad was more sensitive than my mother. He cried more frequently than she did. It was perhaps an inherited trait form his own father. Indeed, in doing genealogy, one thing I’ve learned about this one family line is that they were a colorful but sensitive lot. I love that about them. I love that my dad took care of my mom from the day they got married. If she had a meeting or party to go to without him and was concerned about how to get there, he always took her the day before to show her the way, or he’d drop her off and pick her up. No arguments. He wanted her to be safe and feel comfortable. These types of things are what the males in this family line have always done.

Dad cried over the death of our dogs and over the death of dogs he’d had growing up. He cried at a good movie. He was saddened by students who wouldn’t see their own potential. He hated it when people gave up on themselves.

So what does this close at home example mean about the subject matter? It means simply this. If feminine means sensitivity and doing acts that are designed to take care of one’s mate and family, then every man should have a feminine side and not be offended by it, just like a woman should embrace the power and strength of knowing she can do whatever is necessary to survive. Tears don’t mean weakness, any more than cooking and vacuuming detract from manhood.

My dad was a good man, who loved his family deeply and cared about the world. To him, being a man meant taking care of us and doing his best in this world. His students respected him, and we loved him. Shredding tears over that which touched his heart and keeping food on the table didn’t detract from my father’s manhood, it added to it. More men should be like my father was; at least, that’s my opinion.