Mixed with all of the happiness, joy, and love is an odd feeling that comes from being able to objectively watch your parent in the act of parenting someone else. I sometimes find myself trying to remember what he was like when I was a little kid - comparing this new reality with all of my memories. Seeing him this weekend, still recovering from back surgery, in obvious pain, walking with difficulty, a slow feeling of sadness came to me. Not just that he was having a hard time, but that this energetic little brother of mine could not enjoy him at his prime. For my father was the tallest man that most of my friends had ever seen, he ducked under doorways and grazed ceilings with his head. When the conversation on the playground turned to who's dad could beat up who's dad, no one ever questioned who would be at the top of the heap. I danced with him by standing on his feet. I could grab his hands, climb up his legs, and flip over, "skinning the cat." He made his bed an island and he would lift and dangle us over the edge, threatening to drop us into the "boiling oil" (pronounced "boilin' erl"). We had endless wars with rolled up newspapers as weapons. He would chase us with each pointer finger extended yelling "two finger killer karate!", tickling us until we collapsed laughing so hard we could barely breathe. As I think of all of these memories, I can't help wishing for my brother that he could experience this part of our father.
Such a tender, thoughtful musing. Thank you. It also tickled me cause I thought about my boys and the rolled up newspaper and magazine fights, the sock bombs flying across the room, the bucking bronco rides, the wrestling beatdowns, the flights and flips and spins and I'm joyful that you had that too. Your brother I'm sure will get his share. BTW your dad could scare the bejesus out of me at least, his size, his cunning, best part of my childhood.
ReplyDeleteYOu would ask this so I will too - are you feeding that child popcorn?
ReplyDeletejust kiddin about popco3rn Mom
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