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"What is love?" again, perhaps
May. 11th, 2003 08:58 pmMy dad has his moments: he'll drive the car across the yard instead of on the driveway, or turn up the music so loud my mom actually sticks her fingers in her ears, or inexplicably love a movie like Bridget Jones's Diary, or stack up all the little creamers at Perkins and then try to flick the bottom one out without knocking over the stack, which of course doesn't work at all and creamer containers go flying all over the table ... and my mom says "Da-vid!" I always love to hear that; it means my dad has done something probably amusing and definitely not harmful, just weird.
The rest of the time, he's quiet. He tells me he was always shy in school, and I guess I can see that. He doesn't talk much, but then he's a classic Minnesotan and I think he was raised that way. The combination of nature and nurture means he'll talk about farming or baseball or the movie he just saw, but not about ... everything else.
He's not one for physical affection either; the only time I remember him so much as holding my hand was when something (I don't remember what, I was maybe seven) was wrong with my eyes. It hurt to open them and even when I did I couldn't see much. Thus, I was led around a lot for a while--I missed nearly all of our vacation to Colorado Springs and Mesa Verde that way--and sometimes my dad would be the one whose hand I took.
So what I think is one of the coolest things about my dad is that, for her birthday and Mother's Day and whenever else he gets my mom a card, he always picks out some of those with fancy script and lots of it. The kind of card I gloss right over whilst looking for the goofy ones. Dad picks out silly or "mean" ones for his friends' or relatives' birthdays when my mom gives him the chore, but he always gets her a sappy one, and he always signs them "With all my love, Dave."
This is so incongruous to the dad I know otherwise that I can't help but smile; even now and I first noticed this years ago. It threw me off at first but I soon decided I like it. It's not that I don't think they love each other, it's that nobody ever seems to show--or tell--affection in this family. Good to know it's still there.
The rest of the time, he's quiet. He tells me he was always shy in school, and I guess I can see that. He doesn't talk much, but then he's a classic Minnesotan and I think he was raised that way. The combination of nature and nurture means he'll talk about farming or baseball or the movie he just saw, but not about ... everything else.
He's not one for physical affection either; the only time I remember him so much as holding my hand was when something (I don't remember what, I was maybe seven) was wrong with my eyes. It hurt to open them and even when I did I couldn't see much. Thus, I was led around a lot for a while--I missed nearly all of our vacation to Colorado Springs and Mesa Verde that way--and sometimes my dad would be the one whose hand I took.
So what I think is one of the coolest things about my dad is that, for her birthday and Mother's Day and whenever else he gets my mom a card, he always picks out some of those with fancy script and lots of it. The kind of card I gloss right over whilst looking for the goofy ones. Dad picks out silly or "mean" ones for his friends' or relatives' birthdays when my mom gives him the chore, but he always gets her a sappy one, and he always signs them "With all my love, Dave."
This is so incongruous to the dad I know otherwise that I can't help but smile; even now and I first noticed this years ago. It threw me off at first but I soon decided I like it. It's not that I don't think they love each other, it's that nobody ever seems to show--or tell--affection in this family. Good to know it's still there.