All your life I've known you, and this week, back East with your husband and son, I find out more things about who you are, who you have become.
We laugh at stories of your growing up, but you're living out new stories now as training administrator, wife, mother, community activist, avid and interesting reader, parishioner, sister, daughter, loyal friend. How I admire the way you care for, contain, inspire and comfort my grandson. There's calm in your demeanor that's almost majestic, creating around him a space within which he flourishes. You know how to balance strictness and indulgence. The instances I could cite seem trivial--Finish the food on the plate, Time to go to bed, Don't touch; they're not yours--but done respectfully and firmly. And you can be romantic; and you can be diligent and creative. Sure you're not perfect but I don't want to talk about anything else? Have I mentioned how beautiful you are?
As daughter, you give us attention and affection, and indeed I'm somewhat taken aback. What do you see in me that deserves this respect, this love. All I did was father you; I loved the duty and you. How proud I was that you set off on your own and made a life for yourself far away (though not beyond telephone reach). What was mine to do for spouse and child and employer, you do, and well. The benefit needs to flows downstream, why upstream?
I don't know if my regard really catches you where you feel you live, and sometimes I feel you miss what I consider my mark, after all we are of two different generations, genders and individual interests. Still, especially when we talk about, say, your thirtieth book of the year, Moby Dick, we meet truly and fully in that conversation of exploration.
The nature of our encounter will evolve and develop while we're still alive. Indeed you spoke this week of thinking about our care as we get older--a shocking notion. Long before then, in fact right now, I'm enjoying being a friend as well as father. More talk, more games, more visits, more appreciation of those around us and of each other.
It's all new. I don't quite know what to make of our relationship or how to sink into it. I don't quite understand why I deserve this gift, but for you I'll rise to it.
We laugh at stories of your growing up, but you're living out new stories now as training administrator, wife, mother, community activist, avid and interesting reader, parishioner, sister, daughter, loyal friend. How I admire the way you care for, contain, inspire and comfort my grandson. There's calm in your demeanor that's almost majestic, creating around him a space within which he flourishes. You know how to balance strictness and indulgence. The instances I could cite seem trivial--Finish the food on the plate, Time to go to bed, Don't touch; they're not yours--but done respectfully and firmly. And you can be romantic; and you can be diligent and creative. Sure you're not perfect but I don't want to talk about anything else? Have I mentioned how beautiful you are?
As daughter, you give us attention and affection, and indeed I'm somewhat taken aback. What do you see in me that deserves this respect, this love. All I did was father you; I loved the duty and you. How proud I was that you set off on your own and made a life for yourself far away (though not beyond telephone reach). What was mine to do for spouse and child and employer, you do, and well. The benefit needs to flows downstream, why upstream?
I don't know if my regard really catches you where you feel you live, and sometimes I feel you miss what I consider my mark, after all we are of two different generations, genders and individual interests. Still, especially when we talk about, say, your thirtieth book of the year, Moby Dick, we meet truly and fully in that conversation of exploration.
The nature of our encounter will evolve and develop while we're still alive. Indeed you spoke this week of thinking about our care as we get older--a shocking notion. Long before then, in fact right now, I'm enjoying being a friend as well as father. More talk, more games, more visits, more appreciation of those around us and of each other.
It's all new. I don't quite know what to make of our relationship or how to sink into it. I don't quite understand why I deserve this gift, but for you I'll rise to it.
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