"I wondered if maybe now, as he was getting near the end, he could shed some light on this giant mystery, this black hole. Why’d it go this way Dad? That’s what I wondered"
Beautifully told and so relatable. I wish we could all have the Hollywood ending in these sorts of relationships (honesty, closure), but most of the time it doesn't seem to shake out that way.
Most readers will resonate with the intense human drama and conflict going on, but these are just normal and commonplace, - who doesn't experience familial conflicts? The words that I like are these:
"It was a pissy, cold late-March morning in Pittsburgh—any hopes of enjoying a spring day in the sunshine were washed away by a persistent cold drizzle. A few degrees colder and it would have been snowing."
That's really classy. Epic American Novels - and crime noir TV series - have been built on crisp opening sentences like that. Consider the first sentence or two of "The Catcher in the Rye" by J.D. Salinger is quite memorable and sets the tone for the entire novel. It goes:
"Holden Caulfield. With his goddamn red hunting cap. He kills me. He really does. But I felt sorry as hell for him too. I really did."
The opening lines of "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" by Hunter S. Thompson are quite iconic and set the stage for the wild journey that follows. Here’s how it begins:
"We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold."
Very sad, but at least you had time with him towards the end. It's a shame he fidnt want to acknowledge that there wasn't much time left for healing divisions, but at least you tried. As the Bhagavad Gita says, sort of, we can only act, but not have control of the results of our actions
Thanks for reposting Tom - some odd Karma that I am in Naples as I read this, just took a walk not far from one of the houses he lived in and was telling Kim and our best friends the sad story of his estrangement from our families - he taught us both some great lessons in what NOT to do as an aging father/grandfather! It’s sad, but hopefully some good comes from it as we move into that phase of our lives - and may we both have a 911 before we go, and take our grandkids for a ride in it!
Thanks for this. I'm finding it difficult being in that middle spot bridging my rapidly aging and deteriorating father and the enthusiastic hopefulness of my son, all while hoping my dad and I can somehow heal our divisions and trying to prevent the same from opening up between me and my kid. And, yet, knowing they will.
Thanks for writing this so thoughtfully Tom. I never knew much of the story about your relationship with your dad after your folks divorced. I remember Sara saying the divorce was harder for you than either of you had expected. It is interesting to me how complicated relationships are. You described well your ambivalent real feelings during your attempts to make this one better. I was struck by your courage to deal with true feelings that are hard to express. And it made me cry.
Well I didn't expect to cry BEFORE the Chiefs beat the Eagles! Left me balling here. This was beautiful, Tom. The writing, the honestly, the simplicity... well done.
Thank you for sharing this profound story from your past. Your Dad’s fear of dying, and him lying to both himself and you about the state of his health show us just how fragile life is for some men. He never had the courage to live honestly. And sadly, he missed the last possible connection with you as he refused to talk about closure.
I hope that you continue to “leaning out over your skis” with courage to face the reality of being human.
Life is a mystery. As much as we want to write out a plan of how it's going to go and how everything is going to sync in feelings, growth and timing, we have no control of events....only our reaction to them.
Tom, I had to stop reading halfway through and pick it up a little bit later. Sometimes life feels like fiction. And sometimes when we tell our stories, it’s not at all how we would have wrote it in a book.
While reading about the time you spent with him at the end, I felt proud of you for making the choice and the time to go see him, even if it maybe wasn’t the closure of a fiction novel. Everyone’s story is different and not everyone is offered that chance. Reading your story, I felt a flood of empathy for those in this world who do get a chance like yours, and for those who don’t.
You are a good man, Tom. Thank you for sharing this. Reminders of the unexpected fragility of time have a profound power to move people. Time is indeed fragile.
“I felt nothing for him. I had the muscle memory of a relationship, but when we sat having coffee on the second day and he broke down and said, “God Tom, it’s so nice seeing you and seeing your kids, I really want to be part of your lives,” all I could say in return was, “Dad, I don’t feel that much toward you any more. I don’t know if that will come back or not, but our break felt like your death and I’ve buried you in my past.” All my love for him had been burned out and I didn’t know if it could ever come back.”
This part in particular resonated strongly. I’m somewhat estranged from my dad and check myself often…”If he died today, will I be at peace with it? Is there anything I wish I would have said?” The answer is always yes, I would be at peace with it, I have nothing more to say.
I never worked on a relationship with my real dad. He overstepped with me one day and I cut him off. He died a lonely old man over something he could have fixed. I often wonder if I should have made an effort, but honestly, he never would have changed and all it would have done was make me miserable. Mom had remarried the man I called "Dad" and who raised me. He's the one I grieved for when he died.
"I wondered if maybe now, as he was getting near the end, he could shed some light on this giant mystery, this black hole. Why’d it go this way Dad? That’s what I wondered"
Beautifully told and so relatable. I wish we could all have the Hollywood ending in these sorts of relationships (honesty, closure), but most of the time it doesn't seem to shake out that way.
Most readers will resonate with the intense human drama and conflict going on, but these are just normal and commonplace, - who doesn't experience familial conflicts? The words that I like are these:
"It was a pissy, cold late-March morning in Pittsburgh—any hopes of enjoying a spring day in the sunshine were washed away by a persistent cold drizzle. A few degrees colder and it would have been snowing."
That's really classy. Epic American Novels - and crime noir TV series - have been built on crisp opening sentences like that. Consider the first sentence or two of "The Catcher in the Rye" by J.D. Salinger is quite memorable and sets the tone for the entire novel. It goes:
"Holden Caulfield. With his goddamn red hunting cap. He kills me. He really does. But I felt sorry as hell for him too. I really did."
The opening lines of "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" by Hunter S. Thompson are quite iconic and set the stage for the wild journey that follows. Here’s how it begins:
"We were somewhere around Barstow on the edge of the desert when the drugs began to take hold."
Very sad, but at least you had time with him towards the end. It's a shame he fidnt want to acknowledge that there wasn't much time left for healing divisions, but at least you tried. As the Bhagavad Gita says, sort of, we can only act, but not have control of the results of our actions
Thanks for reposting Tom - some odd Karma that I am in Naples as I read this, just took a walk not far from one of the houses he lived in and was telling Kim and our best friends the sad story of his estrangement from our families - he taught us both some great lessons in what NOT to do as an aging father/grandfather! It’s sad, but hopefully some good comes from it as we move into that phase of our lives - and may we both have a 911 before we go, and take our grandkids for a ride in it!
Ok, see ya - I’m off to plan a long road trip with my boy (I got the van btw).
Thanks for this. I'm finding it difficult being in that middle spot bridging my rapidly aging and deteriorating father and the enthusiastic hopefulness of my son, all while hoping my dad and I can somehow heal our divisions and trying to prevent the same from opening up between me and my kid. And, yet, knowing they will.
Echoes of my own relationship with my father, though mine started in childhood and so there was never a formal break. Thanks for sharing, Tom.
Bittersweet memory. Beautifully told.
We don't always have resolutions for what troubles our hearts, and we don't always have closures that we hope for. ❤️
Thanks for writing this so thoughtfully Tom. I never knew much of the story about your relationship with your dad after your folks divorced. I remember Sara saying the divorce was harder for you than either of you had expected. It is interesting to me how complicated relationships are. You described well your ambivalent real feelings during your attempts to make this one better. I was struck by your courage to deal with true feelings that are hard to express. And it made me cry.
Well I didn't expect to cry BEFORE the Chiefs beat the Eagles! Left me balling here. This was beautiful, Tom. The writing, the honestly, the simplicity... well done.
Thank you for sharing this profound story from your past. Your Dad’s fear of dying, and him lying to both himself and you about the state of his health show us just how fragile life is for some men. He never had the courage to live honestly. And sadly, he missed the last possible connection with you as he refused to talk about closure.
I hope that you continue to “leaning out over your skis” with courage to face the reality of being human.
Life is a mystery. As much as we want to write out a plan of how it's going to go and how everything is going to sync in feelings, growth and timing, we have no control of events....only our reaction to them.
Good story Tom.
Tom, I had to stop reading halfway through and pick it up a little bit later. Sometimes life feels like fiction. And sometimes when we tell our stories, it’s not at all how we would have wrote it in a book.
While reading about the time you spent with him at the end, I felt proud of you for making the choice and the time to go see him, even if it maybe wasn’t the closure of a fiction novel. Everyone’s story is different and not everyone is offered that chance. Reading your story, I felt a flood of empathy for those in this world who do get a chance like yours, and for those who don’t.
You are a good man, Tom. Thank you for sharing this. Reminders of the unexpected fragility of time have a profound power to move people. Time is indeed fragile.
“I felt nothing for him. I had the muscle memory of a relationship, but when we sat having coffee on the second day and he broke down and said, “God Tom, it’s so nice seeing you and seeing your kids, I really want to be part of your lives,” all I could say in return was, “Dad, I don’t feel that much toward you any more. I don’t know if that will come back or not, but our break felt like your death and I’ve buried you in my past.” All my love for him had been burned out and I didn’t know if it could ever come back.”
This part in particular resonated strongly. I’m somewhat estranged from my dad and check myself often…”If he died today, will I be at peace with it? Is there anything I wish I would have said?” The answer is always yes, I would be at peace with it, I have nothing more to say.
Beautifully written, Tom.
I never worked on a relationship with my real dad. He overstepped with me one day and I cut him off. He died a lonely old man over something he could have fixed. I often wonder if I should have made an effort, but honestly, he never would have changed and all it would have done was make me miserable. Mom had remarried the man I called "Dad" and who raised me. He's the one I grieved for when he died.