My dad grew up answering the door for debt collectors while his mother lay in her bed in the dark suffering from debilitating migraines, his own father off on some harebrained sales scheme. His mom was brilliant and endlessly curious and loved him more than anything, but could only do so much on her own and with her own tricky wiring to contend with. My dad took his braces off himself with pliers because his parents ran out of money. He got a job stocking shelves at a grocery store as soon as they would hire him. His own money, I’m guessing felt like a rope thrown down in a chasm on which he could crawl out of insecurity. The fathering he got, was zany, unpredictable, and full of deception (self deception most of all).
Exquisite. Powerful for its intimacy. Thank you for this. Blessings on your father and mother and your dear family. This column has awakened me to being reflective about this coming Father's Day. There has always been much to be grateful about.
Exquisite. Powerful for its intimacy. Thank you for this. Blessings on your father and mother and your dear family. This column has awakened me to being reflective about this coming Father's Day. There has always been much to be grateful about.
Lovely. I too was lucky enough to have a father who provided healthy shade and worked to break the cycle of inter generational trauma.