I had two fathers. One I knew about, and one I did not.
The father I thought I had could not be pleased. I could blame this on me not being his biological child, and his knowledge of that, but really, he wasn't that nice to any of us, or around much either. He told my brother he had to choose between making the business go or being on deck as a father, and he chose the business. I forget the reason why.
My sister was his favorite, named for his mother, and born after grandmother Anne [who liked to be called "Mother Anne" had died, disappointed to see that the first grandchild, of her only child to have children, was a boy.
Annie always knew how to handle Dad, how to be on his good side, how to get his approval. It appeared to others of us that she never had a fly on her, but I could not figure him out. He didn't think I was funny, and that was my strongest card. I was not good at being the right sort of person to fit in with the family, not accomplished, or confident, and being imaginative and sloppy about details was not a feature he wanted manifesting in his family.
Each of our experiences of him were different, but I wish he had shared the talents he had with cars, and machines, and his knowledge of political systems and business that he shared with my brothers. He had a Victorian view of girls, but the only way in which my view of girls was Victorian was that they should be fighting for equal rights.
Then there was the man who was my father, whom I knew, but not in that context. He always found me amusing, and listened to my theories of the universe with interest. He had a wife already, a staunch Catholic, and a daughter, born 24 years ahead of me. He believed in organic vegetables, and ways of relating to the world that did not include the church. He had met Ram Dass, and read widely of the coming alternative ways of thinking and being. He had no patience with narrow minds, whining or people who took themselves too seriously, and I am sorry to have been robbed of knowing that I had a father who loved me, because I believe he did, though everything had to kept quiet, a secret that was not a secret, but that could not be talked about or alluded to.
I am also grateful to my father, who in the reluctant position of being my father, whether to save his face or not, did better by me than he had cause to, and I have some sweet memories of him when he was in a cheerful mood when he could be charming and an easy presence.
Happy Father's Day, Dads.
The father I thought I had could not be pleased. I could blame this on me not being his biological child, and his knowledge of that, but really, he wasn't that nice to any of us, or around much either. He told my brother he had to choose between making the business go or being on deck as a father, and he chose the business. I forget the reason why.
My sister was his favorite, named for his mother, and born after grandmother Anne [who liked to be called "Mother Anne" had died, disappointed to see that the first grandchild, of her only child to have children, was a boy.
Annie always knew how to handle Dad, how to be on his good side, how to get his approval. It appeared to others of us that she never had a fly on her, but I could not figure him out. He didn't think I was funny, and that was my strongest card. I was not good at being the right sort of person to fit in with the family, not accomplished, or confident, and being imaginative and sloppy about details was not a feature he wanted manifesting in his family.
Each of our experiences of him were different, but I wish he had shared the talents he had with cars, and machines, and his knowledge of political systems and business that he shared with my brothers. He had a Victorian view of girls, but the only way in which my view of girls was Victorian was that they should be fighting for equal rights.
Then there was the man who was my father, whom I knew, but not in that context. He always found me amusing, and listened to my theories of the universe with interest. He had a wife already, a staunch Catholic, and a daughter, born 24 years ahead of me. He believed in organic vegetables, and ways of relating to the world that did not include the church. He had met Ram Dass, and read widely of the coming alternative ways of thinking and being. He had no patience with narrow minds, whining or people who took themselves too seriously, and I am sorry to have been robbed of knowing that I had a father who loved me, because I believe he did, though everything had to kept quiet, a secret that was not a secret, but that could not be talked about or alluded to.
I am also grateful to my father, who in the reluctant position of being my father, whether to save his face or not, did better by me than he had cause to, and I have some sweet memories of him when he was in a cheerful mood when he could be charming and an easy presence.
Happy Father's Day, Dads.
"How to get on his good side.." Well, sometimes, perhaps. But you, with your astrological understanding know that a Leo requires careful handling. I learned early on (to my later detriment) how to give up myself to let the king rule. He was manifestly a Leo... and I thoroughly pissed him off on several occasions when I decided to NOT be a subject but a strong-minded, free-thinking FEMALE... like when I told him I wasn't going to tolerate his wrapping himself up in a purple huff and storming off like some kid to pout because things were not going the way he wanted them to... like I was channeling his mother, he later said. Or the time I told him that he was entitled to feel anger at an individual, but that it was not a statement of disloyalty for me to have a conversation with that same person because I did not have any issues with him... yeah, sometimes I knew how to 'handle' the lion, but I also got clawed and maimed by the yearning for closeness that didn't materialize. Still, as the years have passed, I have worked through a lot of the 'stuff' and I love him as he was/is, and now as I am older than he ever could be, I imagine that if he was still his age and I'm now at mine we might have been friends, might have had some jolly dinners... without the 'lovely tomatoes' that he forced upon me as a youngster.
ReplyDeleteYou were a mystery to him, and I think he knew the facts but did his best to be a father from the model he had... not a particularly good one, sad to say. IN the end, we all do the best we can with what we have at the time.
And love does leak through.... Big hugs!!!
I remember him well; all his weaknesses and his strengths. All though we suffered because of him and our mother, as well. It isn't different from how many others have gone through similar troubles with parents.
ReplyDeleteHis statement to me of choosing between business and family haunted him to the end of his days and he told me he wished it could have been family. But his ability in business gave a lot to the people of Keene, NH. I remember a man in hospital where I was working that found out that he was my father and told me that he had only been working a short time for my father's company when he became sick (and thus no insurance). My father paid for his hospital stay and visited his family every night to make sure they were taken care of. My estimation of him and anger changed that day at 16. Although, I was to have other incidents with him, this act always stayed with me to show me what a considerate and caring man he was. He may not have shown his that side of himself to us but I knew it was there.
I have learned over the years that one is responsible to fixing it for themselves and cannot blame others. Truly, self help here and not a book that tells you how.
And I agree, underneath it all is love. That has cured more ills; hate or discontent have not solved anything.
Annoying Mouse