Welcome to Dad Talks, the first in a new series at Being a Dad is Hard as F*ck.
When Emily was pregnant with our first child, I scoured the racks of our local bookstores and clicked through page upon page of Amazon results in search of one very specific story; an earnest and emotional retelling of early fatherhood.
I found nothing.
Because, for whatever reason that has a lot to do no doubt with the fact that men are unallowed to have and share our feelings, everything geared toward fathers was all self-help, how-to, and (generally unfunny) humor.
Then, a friend told me about the book Crawling: A Father’s First Year by Elisha Cooper. It was exactly what I was looking for, an earnest and honest take of Cooper’s first year with his first child, a daughter named Zöe. Crawling has since become a book I’ve gifted to several friends on the eves of their first children.
A few years after Crawling, Cooper wrote another book about fatherhood called Falling, which documents Zöe’s battle with childhood cancer. Sadly, I haven’t had the courage to read that one yet, but I have no doubt it’s as equally as profound and moving as Crawling. Someday, someday.
Elisha was kind enough to take the time to answer a few of my questions for this series. Read on below this picture of Elisha and a young Zöe taken by Shauna B. Peet.
First off, how is Zoë?
She’s great, thanks for asking. And it’s interesting to me that my first thought when I read your question was not about cancer (the experience I wrote about in Falling: A Daughter, a Father, and a Journey Back). So while that story is part of her history, it’s only a part, one piece of the young woman she’s become. She’s in college now, a sophomore at Harvard, running on the cross-country team. She has a really sharp mind, and loves chemistry and math (which I find mystifying, because I’m so bad at all of that). And during Covid she became a pretty skilled chef! Hmm, I’m bragging about my daughter, but I guess that’s the prerogative of being a father.
Now that your kids are getting older, are they cognizant of the fact that they've been subjects of your books? What was that realization like? Have you had to explain to them why you chose to write about them?
Even when they were young, they knew that I wrote about my life. When I wrote those essays about our family, I read them to the girls before publishing, to make sure that my words were okay. That said, a young child’s feelings may be different from that of a young adult, which is why I doubt I’ll write about my family again. But maybe I could write about our younger daughter! Mia is a lovely dancer, with a quirky sense of humor, and is taking a gap year before going to Yale. I’ll have to ask for her approval though.
Furthermore, and considering as much, do people you don't know often ask how Zoë is doing (as I very much just did)? How does she handle that? Was that something that was ever strange for her?
With folks who know her, they’re usually asking her about what she’s been up to. That’s my impression, at least. I know it’s hard asking these questions — about health, sickness, worry — so they come out right. I often fail at them myself. So I try to be gentle and understanding in my own response. One truth I learned about having a child with cancer is that the anxiety we felt was much the same to what any parent feels for their child (maybe just more). It’s the condition of parenthood.
What led you to start writing about being a father? Was it a conscious decision or just something that came out once you started having kids?
I’ve always written about the world around me, whether it’s family, our cats, or something I see as I bike the streets of New York. It’s how I process things. And always have, I think. I still have the notebooks I kept when I was a boy, which have drawings next to descriptions of my day or a family trip. In some odd way, they’re little children’s books. Or, illustrated essays. So I’m basically doing the same thing I was doing when I was eight years old.
How does writing about fatherhood change your approach to fatherhood? Do you approach it like journaling? Or does it purely function as record keeping?
I suppose it makes me think. Think deeper, I mean. And recognize the times I’ve messed up. Much of fatherhood, at least for me, has been getting things a little wrong, and then adjusting. With Falling I wrote about my anger and fears. Writing helped smooth that out. Putting my thoughts down on paper and seeing if they made sense. My brother was killed last year in an accident, which was incredibly hard. Writing about it was similarly helpful. An act of remembering, and an attempt to understand.
What kind of father was your father? And how did his parenting style inform yours? What have you done similarly to him? What have you set out to do different?
My father took me fishing and he took me to football games. He was funny and kind and generous (and at 83, he still is). Whenever I hear of father/son relationships that are difficult and fraught, I’m a little bewildered. That never was my experience. He’s always been charmed by me, even when I’m not charming. I guess what that taught me is that a parent’s love should be unequivocal.
You can check out more of Elisha Cooper’s work at his website:
Or find him on the socials.
Dad Talks #1: Elisha Cooper
I loved this! I think a writing a Dad book should surely be in your future!! Keep writing!