I used to be embarrassed I had an older dad. Now I appreciate what his age did for his parenting.

• I would get asked if my dad was my grandfather regularly. 
• It mortified me that he was so much older than all the other parents. 
• Now I appreciate his encouragement and support, even as he approaches turning 90. 

I was warming up for my middle school basketball game when a teammate asked, "Is that your grandpa?" 

"Uh, no," I muttered. "That's my dad." 

I stood in line waiting to shoot another layup when I saw him strut into the gym wearing his long trench coat (so not cool). It felt like my heart did a somersault in my stomach. This question was posed to me often while growing up, and back then, it mortified me because he was so much older than other parents. 

You see, my dad was 48 when he had my twin brother and me. So, by the time we graduated from high school, he was 67. One thing I didn't realize during my childhood, however, was that my dad's age was actually a real plus. Now that I'm a parent myself, I can see that. 

He got calmer as my problems grew

When it came to the little things like sibling squabbling or getting caught toilet papering, my dad was like most parents — annoyed. As a typical teen, I felt like he'd never understand me because, after all, he was so much older. But as my three brothers and I aged, our problems swelled. A simple "Knock it off," would no longer do the trick with our turbulent behavior. However, as our problems grew bigger, our dad grew calmer. 

During college, when my brothers and I spent our time making all kinds of awful decisions, he'd send us weekly letters with his barely-can-read handwriting on his yellow legal pad. Sometimes, if we were lucky, he'd throw in a $20 bill. Back then, that's what we used to look for instead of his age-old wisdom he'd scribe on the letters. But we should have been listening to the gentle nudges he wrote down instead of ripping those twenties from the envelope to spend on booze. 

One semester in college, I managed to really nosedive. I was both on social and academic probation during the same semester. I was partying too much, skipping class, and doing anything but studying. 

I almost got kicked out. 

But I'll never forget the day my report card came in the mail. My dad called me into the family room and sat me down on the couch. He sat across from me, right on the coffee table, leaning toward me with his hands resting on his knees. He didn't yell. He didn't lecture. He didn't shame me. He spoke calmly, listened to me, and then asked, "So, what's your plan?" 

I will follow his example with my own kids

Now that I'm a parent, I'm in awe of the patience and sense of calm he had in that moment. I was in deep, ruining my future — so, I thought at the time. But my dad knew I'd be OK. As a first-generation immigrant, he had flunked or dropped out of five colleges before earning his degree. So, he understood that failure was sometimes just part of the game. Yes, sometimes, you just need to crash and then pull yourself up and try again. 

My own kids are only tweens, so the big problems haven't hit us quite yet. But I feel lucky I have memories of my much older dad exhibiting such wisdom when I was a tumultuous teen because now I know how to respond when things get rough with my own kids. 

Today, my dad's nearing 90 and still supporting and encouraging my three brothers and me as we navigate midlife. And the embarrassment of his age I felt as a teen on that basketball court is only a distant memory.