Peers

I don't miss him; I don't even think of him more than, say, once a month. He died some years ago, me dead to him. He was about my age now, more or less. I remember playing with him, being taught by him, consoled and encouraged by him. Likewise, I remember his viciousness, his disdain, his duplicity, especially toward the end of his life. He was a brilliant engineer, a charmer, handsome, poised; a favorite in his nursing home, for instance. He had ambition, and rage and a susceptibility to drink. I know where I put his ashes.

Father's Day always makes me feel a bit like a fraud (after all, I was always just doing the next thing) or a monster (after all, what kind of son has this little affect) but one thing strikes me about the day: it reminds us that we're all on the journey of life, passing on to the generations behind us what we've picked up, looking to the generations ahead of us for what they are learning. I think I'm finally starting to get this life business, but there's still plenty of time for everything to be turned on its head: certainty become doubt, the serious become the ridiculous, what's meaningful turn out to be absurd, hope become disillusion.

My dad saw everything turn against him, not the least himself. It was very sad. But my question is: How can I skirt the dangers and win through to that thing I see ahead which is worth wanting?  He was a human being, flawed, fatally flawed it turns out, but in his life so many deeds of friendship, exploration and hospitality forgotten, overshadowed or undercut, too small or quick to notice, or too grand to realize. Where did gestures go that won him his wife, my mother? What about the rowing races on the Thames, and the after-race drinking with his friends afterwards, did those moments go 'poof'? What about bringing me to America and sending me to college? What about that night when he struggled to teach me the concept of percent? Did it go into the abyss? When he held me when I cried after the death of our bassett Beau. Emptiness? What about the tender gratitude he showed to the anonymous correspondent who sent him letters in his last days (my wife, whom he despised)? Was it nothing?

I don't believe so. Deeds of generosity, constancy, courage, the things we do in authentic 2nd interactions, are part of something larger and lasting. His life was full of these. The everything else: ' blip.'

He would have thought these ideas were foolish, weak, marks of a loser. Whatever, Living out the implications of God-in-love is my experiment in going all the way to the best that is there for us. This blog is part of that project; these posts are blazes on the trail. There are collaborations to share in. There are many, many things that people know to listen to and find out about. Fatherhood seems just a part of it.

Even regarding my father and our relationship, there's more to learn, I'm sure. What is it, I'll wait to find out.