Mom used to make a origami swans. Us little kids gathered around in rapt attention as she
folded the paper. You know, that's when
parents still had magic powers that we could only aspire to as we grew.
I should probably write something about Mom now but she
hates that, and besides, I had a vivid dream of Dad this morning. He told me something that I can't remember
now, and then he sang. It was like he
hadn't sung in a long time; he was really rusty and his voice cracked. He was young in the dream, younger
than I ever knew him. I noticed his
crooked teeth and he acted self-conscious about my noticing.
I've been wondering things about Dad lately. What did he feel and think? What motivated him? I've only written the pleasant memories of
him on this blog, but our relationship was complicated, and I've been trying to
put old issues to rest.
I wonder if he really came back to me in this dream, showing
me his insecurities, letting me see what I didn't, couldn't see when I was a
child fascinated by paper swans. It
didn't matter to me if Dad had crooked teeth.
I loved listening to him sing, and I assumed he could always belt out
tunes with operatic quality and volume.
He was 45 when he died in a sudden accident when I was a
teenager. I never had the usual
opportunities to know him more fully as I became an adult. Who would he have become if he had lived to
a ripe old age? What would our
relationship have turned out to be? Would
I like, understand, respect him? Who
would he vote for in the presidential election? (I suspect the Green Party.)
I saw him as a completed picture. I know he was skinny when he was young, but he was brawny and
strong when I knew him. He could do
pushups from a handstand, even with a kid or two hanging on him. He was charming and got along with
everyone. I saw women batting their
eyes at him and never thought there might've been a time when he felt awkward
with girls.
All of us carry the skinny (or fat or whatever) kid within
our adult selves -- even parents, grandparents, teachers, and whatever other
authority figure we meet when we're children.
All of us encounter a time when we look at our parents and think
"that's cracked!" when they something that is clearly just plain
wrong. There's a time when we realize
Mom and Dad aren't just taking a nap in the next room, and Grandma and Grandpa
aren't napping either.
Then, there's the time that we see the crooked teeth and
feel some sympathy and understanding that our parents are flawed humans, just
like we've got flaws and insecurities.
We see the path they set us on when they controlled our lives is a path
that we can choose to follow or not.
Origami swans are just paper, and we can fold them too.
The tomatoes were on the counter when I took the swan pic and I thought I'd share my garden happiness. Nothing like a fresh, home-grown tomato! |
How awful to have lost your Dad so very young Linda....that must have had a profound effect on you. Good that you dream about him still...and fun to hear him sing. Love your home growns....there is nothing like it is there x
ReplyDeleteHis death was profound for me, and while I wonder what our relationship would've been if he'd lived longer, I was old enough to be able to remember him in a fuller way than my little brother who was only 6. Sometimes it's just a matter of perspective, right? After all, he's the one who taught me how to grow tomatoes :)
DeleteNice post, Linda. I don't remember you ever mentioning your dad here before and didn't know he died so young and suddenly.
ReplyDeleteFine looking tomatoes!
Just goes to show that I don't always see things the same way as others. I've felt that I've talked of Dad a lot, though maybe not for quite a while. Those tomatoes are eaten now, but more are coming. Yay!
ReplyDeleteFresh tomatoes are so wonderful to have around. And so are dad's. I just created a dad post too! I bet he'd laugh at your crooked teeth memory. But those are the things we remember. Stirring post.
ReplyDeleteThanks Sharon! Wishing everyone a dad and tomatoes :)
DeleteA beautiful post about the complex relationships most of us have to our parents. Over time we start to seem them as human beings with their positive and negative sides, don't we. I never really had much contact with my father when he was still alive, as he was always travelling. Then—as a boy—it's really easy to make him into a hero. But of course, he was "just" a human being, too.
ReplyDeleteThat's a beautiful way to say this Otto. I never thought of traveling as an inherited thing, but maybe part of the thing about looking at our parents is that we see things about ourselves at the same time?
DeleteSuch a thoughtfully crafted post, when too many cracks are becoming noticeable all around us. So grateful for those lovely tomatoes, such perfect summer gifts! :o)
ReplyDeleteYeah, there are too many noticeable cracks lately :) I hope you're still getting tomatoes!
DeleteGreat post. Oh how I wish I could come up with something interesting to comment, but I guess you'll just have to settle for knowing that your post is admired. :)
ReplyDeleteWhat could be better than a little admiration?! I appreciate the thought Nancy :)
DeleteHaven't heard from you in a while. Hope all's well.
ReplyDeleteEverything is fine, though I'll admit that it's been a stressful time. I apologize for disappearing without communicating, but I appreciate that you noticed and cared. Thanks!
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing this post. It triggers memories of childhood for me too...
ReplyDelete