I remember less and less from my childhood as I get older. It’s not like those memories have vanished, I just have to root around for them a bit longer and when I find them they’re a bit hazier. My formative memories are still crisp as day, though, and on this father’s day I’m thinking about one in particular.

I do not remember how old I was - Clinton was definitely president and I was old enough to start grasping the biological and political complexities of human reproduction, so maybe 12? We were watching congressional floor speeches on c-span and the topic was abortion. This was before being anti-choice would get you booted from the Democratic party, so I can’t identify the party of the individual in question for certain nor can I remember the precise details of their argument, but they were making the case against abortion.

Something about their argument appealed to my 12(?) year old brain - precisely calibrated to the who-did-what-to-who-first school yard sense of fairness that drives so much dumb policy today. I made some kind of noise indicating affirmation when he was done speaking. What my dad did next is why I remember this at all. He looked at me and simply said: “It’s more complicated than that.” He did not tell me what to think. In just five simple words he invited me to think and to hold a little grace for people whose circumstance I could hardly imagine.

I’m a new dad myself and I think about the model my father showed me all the time. He definitely gave me a moral core - but more importantly he taught me how to think and I hope I can do the same for my daughter. My dad could also bench press a truck though, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to do that. Love you dad!