Friday, February 11, 2005

Rememberies and what have you

So my father turns 49 in a couple of weeks, and my mom is planning a surprise "Say goodbye to your fifth decade" party. Instead of presents, she's asked all the people we know to write down a story or memory of my dad. My older sister called trying to find a story or memory for her to send. But, thing is, I don't know what to write myself, let alone remember something poignant from her childhood.

My relationship with my dad is a little hard to categorize. When I was little, I was the closest thing my family had to a boy, so I was dad's little buddy. Then my brother was born, and I lost my place. I would have been a "daddy's little princess" but princess has NEVER been a word to describe me. But my dad and I stayed pretty close. We went through the usual "I'm hitting puberty, so it's no longer appropriate to act like a boy, so become a lady" awkwardness. He coached my softball team for years, which was one of the few ways we related to eachother once I turned 11. We still argued and had our issues, but we understood eachother on the field.

Once I wasn't playing softball anymore, we didn't really know how to relate anymore. I rejected his religion and made a lot of decisions that were not ones he would have made for me. Like, where to go to school, whom to date, where to work, hobbies, etc. We tried to find things we could relate to eachother about, but it was rough. I moved to Milwaukee, and our talks got a little awkward. He didn't understand where I was in my life, and I didn't understand what was going on in his life.

But after my engagement disintegrated, he never asked any questions, just jumped on a plane and drove three days across country with me. I'm not the good kid, I'm not the one who fixes stuff with him, and we really don't have much in common anymore, but my mom says I'm still "daddy's favorite."
The thing is, I have a lot of memories of my dad. But there's no ONE memory. I can't separate them into concise stories. It's one big chain of history.

No comments: