The Fanny Packer called me at my office yesterday.  What I anticipated being a quick, “Hi how are you,” chat, escalated into a two hour gab fest.  Job, schmob.  Actually, the entire time he was talking, I was doing shit at my desk.  What can I say.  The old man is a good influence.

He’s led a rather interesting life, my pops.  He was abducted when I was seven.  At the time, I remember hearing it, but of course it didn’t really have much meaning.  It happened in broad daylight, and during school hours, so in my mind, I saw Daddy when he left for work, I saw daddy after work. Just recently he retold the tale, and it truly struck me how scared shitless he had to have been.  But he recounted it in that matter of fact manner that is always his way.  Whether he’s giving you directions on how to cross the street, or how to build an atom bomb (and dude is exceptionally smart, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he has some yellow cake uranium at the crib), he’s got this way of talking to you that lets you know that the shit is heavy, but he’s gonna break it down so that you understand.  I’d like to think that is one of his traits that I picked up.

Tenuous is the best way to describe my relationship with my father.  My gramps was a first class jerk (oh god, I REALLY struck out in the grandfathers department – I had to choose between the douchebag or the molestor), so knowing where he came from, I think he really gives it the old college try.  He’s a soul whose intentions are good. We didn’t have the stereotypical “daddy’s little girl” relationship.  I don’t try to analyze the whys and wherefores.  It was my reality.  It is my reality.

If I were to ever be asked to name a person that I all at once know the most and least about, my father would be it.  Every once in a while, I’ll get a snippet of insight that leads me to a decision or ideology of the past that I couldn’t understand.  We don’t always agree.  We often disagree.  And we tend to not talk about those things.  I’m not sure if ours is the healthiest of relationships.  I’m fairly certain that it is not.

There were a great deal of things that I had to let go of.  I can’t say that I’m heavy on virtue, but I learned in dealing with my father, the importance of it.  It’s not because something earth shattering took place.  it’s just that, I know if I didn’t, I wouldn’t have a dad.  Plus, I’m sure I’ve let him down tons of times.  I’m sure there are times in my future where he will be disappointed in me, and forgive me.  It’s how we do.

I fucks with that dude.


3 responses to “Père

  1. Man…I KNOW I’ve told you of the many ill sides of my relationship with my pops, so I can really relate to this. There were times when the heat I felt towards that cat could melt the polar caps, but I figured that if I wanted to be a better person, I’d have to be a bigger one…and that meant both forgiving and accepting my pops for who he was…including all of the ills. Towards the end of his life, I was rewarded with an opportunity to chill with him minus the influence of the alcohol and the bitterness, and fell in love with the old man. That time has helped me be able to paint my memories of him in a rose-tinted hue….even the ill ones, and filled my heart with a fondness for him that was present for only a REALLY short time of our lives. Great post, B (I’ve got a big ass tear hanging from my eye…at work, no less). Thanks.

  2. For some reason, I can get your blog from work but not my own. It’s just as well.

    My wife’s father sounds like yours. They’ve got about four topics that they can bring up with each other. The rest…well, you know. I think it’s really good to make peace with one’s parents while it’s still possible. Of course, this is the advice of a hypocrite because I’m on the outs with both of my parents.

  3. one of my (very few) finer qualities, is that i typically don’t hold grudges, yet that’s exactly what i did with my dad. i just figured that the good in him outweighed the bad, and so rather than trying to make our relationship into something it isn’t, i love him the best way i can. i don’t want something to happen to him, then i’m wishing that i had “made up” with him.

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