My Dad

I read something yesterday that a woman wrote about her Dad.  She was writing about how it felt when he hugged her - the smell of the hug.  The Old Spice, the starch of the shirt.  I sat and read that and was instantly crying.  She wrote how she doubts she's been properly hugged since he passed away.  I am a complete emotional rag-doll when it comes to my Dad.  Anything Dad related and I am a mixture of pride, joy, sentiment and fear.  Fear of the day he will no longer be in this world with me.  I have lived with this fear for decades. I have imagined the moment...then I am so terrified by that image that I shake it off in hopes that that day will never come.  So instead of worrying about that today, I thought I'd write a little bit about my Dad.
My Dad is The King.  When he would write us notes when we were kids, he'd sign "The King" and underneath he drew a crown.  He WAS the King.  To me, the greatest joy of my day would come at 5:00 - the moment my Dad got home.  I would sometimes wait at our front door watching for him to pull up.  I'd run out to meet him, take his work clothes and hopefully get a Charleston Chew or Marathon bar. My Dad worked really hard and we all knew it.  He was a "steelworker" and I was "the daughter of steelworker" and I knew he meant we were tough.  I hated when my Dad had to go to work.  I can remember sitting on his lap asking why he had go and he'd say "I have to go to work to buy you a sandbox". Reluctantly, I'd let him go.
I never wanted to upset my Dad.  That remains true today.  I have done a million things in my life in the spirit of making my Dad happy....silly things and meaningful things.  He hated corner booths so when we would go out to dinner, to the quintessential Greek diner Prime Minister, I'd run ahead to tell the hostess "no booth".  I know it seems weird and people might wonder if we did get a corner booth what would happen.  It's not like he yelled or went crazy, it just wasn't what he wanted and I only wanted to see him get what he wanted. 
I also never wanted to disappoint him - which is probably impossible to accomplish especially during those teen years.  I would beg my mom please don't tell Dad. Unfair, but true. One time while I was in high school, my brother and I were locked out of the house and we had to wait outside for my Dad to get home.  He finally got home and I was so hungry so I started making something to eat and he asked me to unload the dishwasher.  I was so mad that I did it but I made sure he knew I was mad by slamming silverware etc.  He walked over to me and calmy said "get out of my kitchen".  I crumbled.  I was devastated.  I bawled and sobbed and put myself in solitary confinement.  I literally had to take the next day off school b/c I was so devastated that my Dad was clearly so upset by my behavior.  To this day, I can't remember any other time he was cross with me.
Every time I am with my Dad, I just want to sit with him and listen to him tell me great stories like about when he was a kid and he got lost going home from school for lunch even though he only lived 2 blocks away so when he made it back to school he got lunch in the teacher's lounge.  That same school provided dental care and the kids could take naps in the afternoon.  Or I love when we get to talk politics and sports and books.  He makes me laugh every time.
I could write a book of fun stories..things that only Peter Sanders would say or think.  I could write about how I have always felt special in my Dad's eyes.  I could write how he used to say to me, "I've spoiled your for all men" and we'd laugh and laugh.  I could write about how he'd drive me to "the rink" and to ballet and back and forth 10 plus hours to college. I could write how I'm not alone...anyone who knows my Dad feels the very same way I do!  But...let's end here...
My Dad will be 80 in October.  He's a great man who worked so hard for his family.  He's brighter than most people I know.  He's charming and funny and quick witted. I adore him for no specific reason which is the best reason.  I adore him because I never felt more a part of anyone else in my life...  I have said and felt that "I'm just like my Dad" a thousand times.  Who knows if I am or if I just want to be!

Don't Envision - Just Arrive

I really do remember thinking I would be a great parent to teenagers.  I really thought I could easily remember the emotions of that age and therefore, could nail this parenting thing during these years.  I mean, this is right in my wheelhouse - open dialogue, empathy, support !  I just remember thinking I'd be better at this than I was at the creative/playful stages of parenting.  So here we go I guess....let's see if I can walk the walk.


Here's something that I never considered.  What if my child doesn't want open dialogue?  Hmmm?  I mean I certainly didn't want open dialogue w/ my mother that's for sure.  BUT I thought I'd be a cooler hipper version of my mom and who wouldn't want to break down life's details with this kick ass made-for-TV mother?  So here I am readjusting....again.  I must find the balance of being open without being TOO much for my fairly emotionally reserved child.  How can I be there, get the scoop, counsel and advise if I don't know anything?  Maybe there's nothing to know.  Maybe I'm not quite needed yet.  Maybe I AM too curious/worried about the interactions of today's tween with the world.  Maybe I should just let go a little bit....  HOLY SHIT...letting go has never been one of my strong suits.


So I have this tween who is the most tired human alive.  To be fair, she's mostly pleasant and only possesses about a third of the obnoxiousness that her mother exhibited in 6th grade.  So I'm so happy about that.  At the core we have ZERO problems - just the typical argumentative crap and occasional manipulation.  I can live with that.  I just need to change my vision.  I envisioned that she would come home and from school and say "I felt so insecure today and I don't know what to do?" or "I'm having this problem with a friend and I don't know what to do".  MAMA TO THE RESCUE.  Here's the great news - I DO know what to do.  I held onto those memories and lessons for a reason - for this very moment  - to pass down my wisdom- to save my kids from any and all pain!!  However, it appears that's not how my 12 year old rolls.  No pouring-her-heart-out to me moments.  I just have to change my vision again bc to be honest, I never considered the other person in that little movie I made for myself.  I never considered that she wouldn't just gobble up my vast knowledge and understanding of being 12.  WHY CAN'T PEOPLE JUST PLAY ALONG DAMMIT.  The lesson here is that in these visions, that have messed w/ me since I became a parent, are the real problem - they set us up.  I picture myself a certain way, I picture the kids a certain way.  THAT needs to stop.  I need to just NOT envision and instead just arrive to the moment open to all the players.  Not easy - but this is what I've learned in the last 12 hours.  Learning...adjusting....learning...adjusting.....