As I’m typing this on my phone in Amadeus’ hospital room, my son is resting in his hospital bed, hooked up to a device that monitors his vital signs, while a soft “hisssss” can be heard from his oxygen mask. Meanwhile, my phone is buzzing left and right with congratulations on having been awarded 2023 Father of the Year, as well as requests for interviews. I think it’s an understatement to say that this week is proving to be one of the crazier ones in my life.
When I started writing this blog post, my first idea for a title was “I left my son in the hospital to go and accept a Father of the Year prize.” I can’t say I felt happy or even that motivated to go to the award ceremony while my son was struggling to breathe, but my wife was convincing. So I went, with a sadness that I couldn’t take my family along, and stood in front of a bunch of ministers and journalists, pretty much completely unprepared. Well, I had time to go home and get my suit, and type up a few bulletpoints on how unprepared I was, because my son was more important.
I’m just another man in Finland who struggles to make sure my kid is as happy as he can be
Alright, I don’t think the point of the award was to show off how perfect of a father I am, because God knows I’m just another man in Finland who struggles to make sure my kid is as happy as he can be. Sure, I have a past that is quite different from those around me, having been orphaned as a child, and sure, my son may have Down syndrome, but ultimately, I guess we all have our motivations for why we want to be there for our kids, to whatever extent we see fit.
I think the reason I was chosen is because I have never fit in, and I have tried! At some point in my life, I came to the conclusion that I have to stop being someone else, stop running from my past, and stop putting off dealing with my past traumas. I have never seen myself as your stereotypical man, never really having liked sports, beer, parties, or dating for the sake of racking up points. My passion has always been writing (it began with poetry, these days more blogging), philosophising about the world around me, and quietly studying people. My wife calls me the “Renaissance man”. And I fully embrace this part of me these days, eschewing old-fashioned gender roles and making sure that I show how much I like being just me, how much I hate having to be placed in a box, and how overcoming is a choice.
If I could choose, I’d give this prize to all dads out there
Now that I’ve been awarded this prize, I have to remember that nothing really changes, and that this doesn’t mean that I now have to start being perfect. I haven’t magically become a saint or a superhero, and if I could choose, I’d give this prize to all dads out there. Because, at the end of the day, I’m Amadeus’ daddy, and that’s enough.
Finntrovert 
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