There's a Place

Andy here … So back in the States, the girls and I were involved in the YMCA’s Indian Princess program, which is a fantastic program for Dad’s to play poker and drink beer.  Oh, and for the girls to have a bit of rough-and-tumble fun with their dads.  We have wonderful memories of trips to Catalina, Mission Bay, and Big Bear, along with the Pinewood Derby, and dances, crafts, bowling, etc.

Well, I figured that once settled here in Australia, I would contact the local YMCA and see if they had a similar program for Aussie dads and daughters.  And sure enough, I was quickly directed to their DadsLink program.  I dropped them an email and received a notice of the monthly meeting for the dads, which I figured was a planning meeting of some kind.  I RSVP’d and after work on Tuesday hopped on the train out to Canterbury, a bit east of downtown Melbourne.  Unfortunately, I hopped on an “express” train out of the city.  I sat there watching each station go by, getting ready for my stop, only to watch as the train whizzed right through my destination and the next one and the next one.  It was an express train, after all, which stopped at only a handful of the stations along the line.  OK, now I was going to be late.  I got off at Box Hill, walked a few paces across the train depot and waited for the train heading back in the other direction.  It arrived, and I checked to be sure it wasn’t an express train into the city, which would again skip my stop.  Finally, I arrived at the Canterbury station and walked out of the station in search of the meeting house, which is called the Hocokah House.  I’m not sure what the name means, but “Hocokah” conjured up a few images of an opium den…not that I’ve ever been in one of those.  (Alexi here. To save y'all from looking it up yourself, the term "Hocoka" comes from the American Indian Lakota tribe and is used to describe the space in the centre of their Tipis. This sacred space represents the meeting place of the four directions; North, South, East, and West and is of great spiritual importance. So, kinda sounds like Indian Princesses stuff, dontcha think?)

As I walked through a rather dodgy neighbourhood, I started to wonder if it really would turn out to be an opium den.  Instead, the Hocokah House was more like a frat house, but with a bunch of 40-50 year old guys hanging out in the living room.  I was warmly welcomed by the six guys there, and quickly offered a spot of tea.  Before long, we all sat down on comfy couches and the moderator, Tony, started off with an introduction about this group and the opportunity it provided for the dads to just chat about their past fortnight (two week period).

It was then that I realized that I was the only dad wearing a wedding ring.  Um … ok.  The first dad to talk, Stuart, relayed his past few weeks of visits with his daughter, and her upcoming birthday, and the chaos and effort that goes into coordinating a birthday with his ex-wife.  And the story turned even sadder as he relayed the tragedy of the death of his other daughter a year ago, and the resulting disintegration of his family and the divorce.  At this point, all I could think about was how I’d better not take Alexi for granted, and that I’d better thank God for the blessing of two healthy and happy girls.

The next up was Rowan, who described the great time he had camping with his son recently, and we could clearly hear the pride in his voice as he described how his son had overcome some recent fears about rope swings and zip lines.  Then the story transitioned into having worked for the past seven days straight at three jobs as he tries to pay off the debt following his journey through Family Court.  His latest tribulation was the refusal of his wife to let him have copies of videos of his son as a baby.  He simply wanted to make copies, but she refused.  He has since let the issue drop, recalling a past effort to just get copies of baby photos, which necessitated a drawn out effort back through the Family Court.

As you likely figured out by now, I’d stumbled onto a group for divorced and separated fathers.

When my turn came around, there wasn’t much I could say, other than to describe the challenges related to our relocation, which suddenly sounded almost trivial by comparison.  I attempted to make our situation sound a little worse than it really is, alternately hoping I wasn’t whining about minor issues or gloating about my fabulous wife and beautiful kids.

In the end, the guys were open, friendly and welcoming, but clearly going through or having gone through some tough times.  I’m not sure I’ll continue with this group, but it was an eye-opening experience, to be sure.