In my dreams last night my father played a prominent part. He passed many years ago, but last night in was in my dreams, and today he’s on my mind.
I got to thinking, he was strong in many ways that I didn’t really appreciate, and he carried on.
I remember that most of his life his nails were gnarled and disfigured from his habit of gnawing on them. I’m sure this was from some inner compulsion, but somehow he got over it, and eventually his nails got better. I’ll never know about – although I can guess – the inner turmoil that caused that outward sign.
He married Mum a week after her 16th birthday, and when she passed at 56 years old he was broken by the pain. I remember him saying he was glad there was a bench just by her grave site, because he’d be spending all his time there. But somehow he found the strength to carry on, eventually moving to a town that he and Mum loved.
One memory that hurts is when I said some words to him. We were on vacation, he’d said something, I don’t even remember what now, and I’d snapped a retort to him. His look of defeat showed me how much I’d hurt him, yet I didn’t apologize. Years later in a recovery program I wrote about that incident and how I wanted to make amends, but he had already passed.
And he had his own way of living. He followed the expected path, until he didn’t. He and Mum decided they wanted to move to the country, totally impractical with his job, but somehow they did so anyway, by buying a home there, and just having a rented place near to work. It seemed totally impractical, yet they made it work. And when mums early passing shattered their plans, Dad carried on anyway, eventually moving there when he retired.
When I think about him, I think about carrying on, about endurance. About doing the next thing, and trusting that it will work out. And when it doesn’t, just doing the next, next thing. About loving through service, about getting on with whatever life gives you, but not being defined by it. Being responsible, but breaking free too.
He was a good man, and I’m proud to be his son.