djcliche (djcliche) wrote,

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Writer's Block: Father nature

What is your fondest childhood memory of your father or grandfather?

i enjoyed when my father taught me to ice skate and ride a bike. i enjoyed many dinners together, riding waves, watching movies, him taking me to watch the airplanes from winthrop, all kinds of good things. even as recently as a little over a month ago, i enjoyed the night i spent with my dad having pizza and watching v for vendetta. the day that i felt like he saw me as his son for the first time ever, he saw me for who i was and loved me for it. but the more he realized who i really was, the more scared he became, to the point where he wanted me dead again for exposing his truth, and that was such a deep disappointment.

it is fathers say and i wish i could spend it with my dad, but i don't recognize him anymore. i hope and pray that he will forgive himself so his soul doesn't fade, but i don't know if that will happen and i can feel it, i feel him fading and it hurts. do i call him and try one more time or do i just let it be? that is the question.

my father's father, my memories of him are mostly unfavorable, but there are a few great stories where i was able to enjoy at least the humor of his sick sick soul... here's a couple quick stories to explain what i mean...

when i was about 15 and my cousin jaime was 16, my grampy took the 2 of us out for breakfast. jaime was talking about her boyfriend and grampy stopped her and said "your BOYfriend???!!!" and jaime said "yeah grampy, i'm 16 years old, i've had plenty of boyfriends!" and grampy said "ah, nah, that's not what i meant. i'm just surprised you have a boyfriend. i thought all my grandkids were homosexuals!"

it was pretty funny cuz i was just at the age where i was starting to realize i was of the queer variety, but none of his grandkids had ever said they were gay or given him any reason to believe this yet, but he HONESTLY believed we were ALL queers.

another great but twisted story was when my sister lisa was in college and went to florida on spring break, and my grandfather called and asked if he was going to see her on "girl's gone wild"

he was also looking at old photos in the late 90's, early 2000's that were taken at the beach in the summer of 91 when my cousin's kevin and mike were just born. there was a picture of lisa (my sister) who has darker, more italian skin (from my mom's side), and who had an insanely dark tan, holding mike who is extremely pale, and he honestly asked the question "who's that black girl holding michael?".... not recognizing his own granddaughter. he also often called my mom a "spaniard" even though she was italian. and that is definitely among the nicest of the long list of extremely racist comments he was always making. he was a police officer who grew up in south dakota and he always seemed to me like a kind of bad man, with just a tiny bit of beauty showing through. i still loved him though, and i actually became engaged to my ex wife on the night he died. i did not know he had died when i proposed to her. and the day of his funeral, i saw my father cry. i think i had maybe seen my dad cry once before, but in general, my dad doesn't cry. and i cried just watching him cry. my dad said to me "my father was a good man. he really was" and i said "so is mine" but he couldn't look me in the eye.

as for my papa, my mother's father. i'm pretty sure there was a long period of time in his life when he was a very very sick soul. he went through a hell that only a very few of the strongest humans on this earth can survive, and they turned him from a shining soul to a faded one. having grandkids was a blessing for him on the 1 hand, because he loved us all so very much, but his soul wasn't really ready for us yet and at first his failure to return to the soul he was meant to be made him even worse, but the birth of my sister nikki was what brought him back. i was 7 years old when she was born, and her birth was the re-birth of him. from age 7 until the day he died when i was 13, my papa served as my father. he was my hero. he was the strongest most beautiful soul i knew and he died for me. and although i was never supposed to know that, i felt it. i knew. and that knowledge nearly destroyed MY soul, but over the past few years, my papa has been coming to me in my dreams and telling me that i have his strong soul, and that mine is even stronger and he has been coaching me to be the sun in the sky and the lion with the tender heart and all the courage in the world. i know his soul did not die. my grampy's soul did. and my grammy's soul got lost in the shuffle, but it's still alive somewhere, and my nana is still alive, but i'm not sure what will happen to her soul either.

because it is father's day and i love my dad and i'm watching him fade as i shine brighter, today i don't really feel as shiny. i'm sure i'll shine a bit more tomorrow cuz it's the summer solstice, but my heart is a bit heavy today.

Tags: dad, family, papa, writer's block

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