Yesterday had ups and downs. The good parts were connecting
with Carol’s daughter Angela and getting picked crab to share with Hollie along
with the lemons that were also a gift. Dr. E. says my eyes are stable and there
is surgery for the floaters if I choose to do it. The BOS was interesting but
not newsworthy. Charter raised the bill after taking off my favorite channels.
Greedy pigs. I made creamed corn chili cornbread to share. Some get, some give.
Dear Father,
I never called you Daddy or Pappy. You were Father with a
capital F. You were movie star handsome and dressed well with your suits and
fedoras. You were a formal figure to me even in your fishing clothes. I always
felt that you were unapproachable. I do remember the car trips when I was
sixteen and I drove while you napped or looked out the window. Then we would
stop for your business and you would buy me a candy bar and a magazine and that
meant a lot, it was personal attention and I realized it stood for a caring
gesture. I drove us to Crescent City where you had work at Roy Deo’s agency.
Hazel said, I’ve heard about his son. Didn’t know he had a daughter. At sixteen
that was a blow. You often brought me a candy bar when you had been gone on a
trip or stopped by to see me in Scotia. You liked checking on the boys and
getting them toys like the cars and the swing set. I loved your gardening. The Campton Heights
house could have graced a gardening magazine. The fuchsias and begonias were
amazing. I can picture you standing and enjoying the plants with your cigar
going. At the H street house, we would work in the yard. You would set me a
task of weeding and then take a nap. You took a lot of naps. I didn’t enjoy
your need for speed with your racing boats and sports cars. You were so good with my sons giving them time
and attention. Not so with my daughter and I resented that. I know that when
mom and I would be chattering you were excluded. If I paid attention to you, she would be
angry with me and say I chose you over her. She would pout. I know you were
embarrassed by her on too many of her cringing occasions. I didn’t want to be
her surrogate for the life she didn’t lead but it took me years of therapy to
understand that dynamic and get free. I wish I had known you more. I remember
asking you questions about your young days and ran into so many secrets. I
never knew about your mother, your sisters or your other brother or why your
father was sent away from Long Island. So many secrets. Mom used to say that
you would hide in the closet when people came over. I know that you had a lot
of trips to the bathroom with anxiety runs that you would explain away as a
need to relax. You certainly did know how to do that when you lived in El Verano. I loved your poetry. It explained a lot about
your silences and your sensitivity to people and noise. You didn’t like me to
play the piano when you were home. The K street house was small for the piano.
I like thinking about the cabin at King Salmon. I think that was your most
authentic self with casual clothes, your little boat, and fishing. It was a
hideaway with no phone or neighbors. We had fun there. I remember walking there
through flooded roads carrying food and stuff we needed for the weekend. Lots
of entertaining there too. Fishing and gardening were your way of finding
peace. It was probably the only time you were content. There with your nasty
little dog. I resented Heidi and her snarling if I wanted to sit by you. You
never corrected her so I moved. You took food off my plate to give to the dog.
Once in Fisherman’s Wharf, once in Klamath. What was that for? She deserved the
good stuff more than me? Then she was sick from the rich people food and what
did you do? Bring her to me to cure her and I did. When I gave her back to you
she was well, hair regrown, good disposition and you went right back to your
ways and she died. I’m sorry that we didn’t ever get to know each other. I
tried to figure out what I could do for your approval. Finally gave up when I
knew I would never be enough. I know I was a disappointment with my marriages
and you never acknowledged my college graduation. . I wanted to please you and
never did. I wanted to go fishing with you and got seasick. You were impatient
with me when you had to take me to the beach and practically dump me out of the
boat. Then I would try again. And fail again.
Your
daughter,
Sharon
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