My Dad Had Me at 50-I Was Embarrassed as a Kid, but Then Everything Changed

My Dad Had Me at 50-I Was Embarrassed as a Kid, but Then Everything Changed

Growing up, it was obvious that my dad was different from others—he had silver hair for starters, wrinkles, wasn't as physically fit and was obsessed with country music. This is understandable, as he was around 10-20 years older than the rest of the dads at the school gates. To an outsider, my dad, Francis, probably looked like a hands-on grandad when he had me at 50. But to his friends in Birmingham, in the U.K., he was more likely seen as a legend—welcoming his fourth and final child with my mom, who was 16 years his junior. This past December, he turned 80, and I'll be 30 this month. A 50-year age gap might seem unusual to many but it's our normal. However, a YouGov survey shows 70 percent of 2,005 adults believe that men having kids between the ages of 46 and 50 is "too old." Well, I can agree to disagree with that.

Francis
At about ages six and 56 (left), it wasn’t just my dad’s physical appearance that set him apart—it was his fashion sense too, and a more recent photo of us together (right). Lucy Notarantonio
While I've never known my dad to be a spring chicken, in his 50s and 60s he seemed full of life compared to his late 70s. Now, living with a brain aneurysm that was discovered after a mini-stroke, frequent hospital visits, and the inevitable signs of aging, watching him decline has been difficult. Our time together often feels less like bonding and more like a caregiver's routine—managing household chores, grocery shopping and cooking. Still, I'm grateful to be in a position where I can be there for him whenever he needs me. When I was younger, I sometimes felt embarrassed by my dad's age, especially when strangers mistook him for my grandad. Even though he was actually older than most of my friends' grandparents. Today, I couldn't be prouder of having an older parent, but I will admit it can be stressful. Ever since I can remember, I have been preparing for the worst. My dad —born in 1944—often told me he wouldn't be around "for very long," which may seem cruel, but he had grown up during a time when many people didn't live past their 40s. According to the Office for National Statistics, life expectancy in 1950 was just 44 years for men and 49 years for women. In contrast, data from the University of California, Berkeley, shows that in the U.S., life expectancy during the same year was significantly higher—65 years for men and 71 years for women.
Millennial daughter
A photo of me as a baby, laughing with my dad, who was 50. Lucy Notarantonio
So, reaching his 50s felt like a miracle, especially as a father again. But in the back of both of our minds, time felt limited. As I entered my teenage years, I was aware that one day, I'd be taking care of him rather than the other way around — and in the past few years, this has become true. But it isn't all doom and gloom. Aside from age-related concerns, having a dad from the Silent Generation has many highs:
  • Financial stability – One major perk of having an older dad is that he had his career and finances sorted by the time I came along. There was no struggling to get by, which gave me a pretty stable upbringing.
  • Old-fashioned mindset – He's lived through eight different decades, which means endless stories and life experiences. Not many dads can tell you firsthand about post-war life, the swinging '60s, or partying through the '80s. The upside? He got all that out of his system by 50, so he was a super present and involved dad. The downside? He doesn't really "get" today's world and is convinced I'm never getting married or having kids because his mom had six by the time she was 30.
  • Perspective from hardship – Growing up on rations and experiencing real struggles made him determined to give me a different kind of life. From private school to summers in Spain, I definitely benefited from his drive to provide more than he had.
  • Relaxed Parenting Style – He'd seen enough in life to know everything works out, so he wasn't strict at all. No curfews, no crazy rules—just a belief that I needed to figure things out on my own.
Francis
My dad and me in Amsterdam, aged about 6 and 56 (left), and a photo of me pouting for the camera. Lucy Notarantonio
While it can be quite morbid to think that he may never meet my future children or walk me down the aisle, it's something I've learned to accept rather than dwell on. Instead, I focus on the years I've spent truly living—with my dad's support, as he always encouraged me to travel, take risks and embrace life to the fullest. If you have a family dilemma, let us know via life@newsweek.com. We can ask experts for advice, and your story could be featured on Newsweek.