Skip to main content

Resistance is Futile


I guess it truly is inevitable. One day, we all wake up, look in the mirror and see our parents...

I grew up in a single parent home and while I was certainly aware of the difference (back then, most of my friends had two parents living at home), I never felt as if I were missing anything important. I never felt deprived or underprivileged, neglected or abused. I knew that we didn't have everything that we wanted and that my mother struggled constantly to make ends meet but we had everything we needed. There was never a time when we were hungry or cold or naked. 

My father's contribution, beyond the initial biological donation, was mostly empty promises. I suppose, on some level, as a child, I hoped for more occasionally; but by the time I was a teenager and working, and as I became more aware of the tenuous balancing act that my mother had been performing for my whole life -- as I began to understand the sacrifices she had made over and over again to keep from having to always say no, hope became resentment tinged with anger. 

I am not angry anymore, truly. I rarely give him a thought. Why would I? Still, once in a while, someone (usually someone who doesn't know me well), will remark how much I look like him, or worse, I will catch myself doing or saying something and realize that despite my best efforts, he has still emerged. In those instances, I feel that familiar resentment and anger. He doesn't deserve the legacy, even if I am the end of the line. More importantly, I promised myself thirty years ago that I would never be like him. I vowed that when I married, it would be forever. OK, so I was a bit naive. I was a kid. Love and forever still seemed like real concepts. Of course, so did Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. 

As it turns out, I was divorced before I turned twenty-one. Luckily, I was smart enough never to have kids of my own. I'll give a little bit of the credit for that to the guy who shares my last name. I did raise two great kids, though I had little to do with it. In the end, I was just as absent as my own father, even though I lived in the same house. At least, he could claim the 'out of state, 700 miles away defense'. I just worked a hundred hours a week.

I don't hate him or wish him ill, but I do find it almost inconceivable and rather disturbing that despite the minuscule amount of time that I spent with my father, the resemblance is still obvious, even to the very few who know both of us. --  

 It is much easier to become a father than to be one.
 ~ Kent Nerburn, Letters to My Son: Reflections on Becoming a Man, 1994

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
A child arrived just the other day,
He came to the world in the usual way.
But there were planes to catch, and bills to pay.
He learned to walk while I was away. 
And he was talking 'fore I knew it, and as he grew,
He'd say, "I'm gonna be like you, dad.
You know I'm gonna be like you."

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little boy blue and the man in the moon.
"When you coming home, dad?" "I don't know when,
But we'll get together then.
You know we'll have a good time then."

My son turned ten just the other day.
He said, "Thanks for the ball, dad, come on let's play.
Can you teach me to throw?" I said, "Not today,
I got a lot to do." He said, "That's
OK."
And he walked away, but his smile never dimmed,
Said, "I'm gonna be like him, yeah.
You know I'm gonna be like him."

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little boy blue and the man in the moon. 
"When you coming home, dad?" "I don't know when,
But we'll get together then.
You know we'll have a good time then." 

Well, he came from college just the other day,
So much like a man I just had to say,
"Son, I'm proud of you. Can you sit for a while?"
He shook his head, and he said with a smile,
"What I'd really like, dad, is to borrow the car keys.
See you later. Can I have them please?"

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little boy blue and the man in the moon.
"When you coming home, son?" "I don't know when,
But we'll get together then, dad.
You know we'll have a good time then."

I've long since retired and my son's moved away.
I called him up just the other day.
I said, "I'd like to see you if you don't mind."
He said, "I'd love to, dad, if I could find the time.
You see, my new job's a hassle, and the kid's got the flu,
But it's sure nice talking to you, dad.
It's been sure nice talking to you."
And as I hung up the phone, it occurred to me,
He'd grown up just like me.
My boy was just like me.

And the cat's in the cradle and the silver spoon,
Little boy blue and the man in the moon.
"When you coming home, son?" "I don't know when,
But we'll get together then, dad.
You know we'll have a good time then."
- - - - -  
  • Song Lyrics: "Cats In The Cradle"
  • Recorded by: "Harry Chapin"
  • Written by: (Sandy Chapin, Harry Chapin)
  • Album: "Verities & Balderdash" - 1974
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Michael and Elizabeth, I apologize -- for everything and I love you.

Comments

Most Popular Posts

In the Arms of the Angels

Three weeks after my last post, I lost my mom, quite suddenly. It's been nearly four months and I am no closer to understanding, no closer to acceptance, and certainly no closer to OK. This, just two weeks before my beautiful daughter was born. Mom had been so excited about my first child. A child no one ever expected. A grandchild she had given up on. (Yes, she has four awesome and monstrously talented grandkids she saw daily, but none from me.) At forty-five (when we found out) no one was as surprised as I was. No one was more excited than my mom. Every time I talked to her, she asked (usually her first words) "do we have a baby yet". The last time I called (the night before the morning I got "the call" was no exception. I told her soon. We talked about how we would get up there as soon as we could after so she could see the baby. I told her I would call her again soon. She sounded tired and I didn't want to aggravate an already delicate balance. (Another...

Mayberry Mourns

What a sad, sad day. In what has to be a national tragedy, beloved actor Andy Griffith, who raised untold generations of kids with his tv son Opie, has passed at 86. I have literally shed tears as if my own grandfather had breathed his last, again. If that wasn't enough sadness, a local celebrity (how he would laugh), has fought the great fight and lost. Ken "K.C." Carlisle, was one of the first people I had business dealings with when I moved to Dothan, almost 17 years ago. A nicer guy you couldn't have conjured. As sad as it is, I don't think KC could have asked for better than going out with Andy. Both will be missed and probably for many of the same reasons. The easy smile, the natural warmth, and the feeling that you are among family, are qualities that seem to fit both. As much as I wish l could claim to be friends with either or both, this is just the ramblings of an acquaintance (at best) and a fan. As a human, it makes me wonder... What legacy will I ...

Year of the Dork

So I'm watching TV and the disembodied voice of Tim Allen asks, "where is your road to happiness". I'm not sure what that has to do with soup but it made me think. What is my road to happiness? Did I miss the exit? Am I even in the right town? There is no GPS for the road of life but I'm pretty sure if I had one it would sound like Dean Winters in a Geico commercial... "recalculating". I realized that I've spent the last several years not actively trying to accomplish anything, not chasing any dreams, just coasting along through life, waiting to die. I wasn't even ambitious enough to try to end it. More like a passive suicide. Now past 40, in a dead end job and living alone, hours from the nearest hint of family, in a town with nothing left to offer, it has become clear that I have wasted at least half of my life (statistically), possibly two-thirds (based on family history). Not only am I doing nothing, I'm not even pretending to try ...

Seven Things I've Learned in Seven Months

Before my daughter was born, I wrote (OK, pilfered, paraphrased, and possibly plagiarized) a blog entry titled 99 things I hope to teach my daughter. Now, here we are, more than seven months in and I thought I'd share seven things I've learned. The things that she's learned had nothing to do with me. The things I've learned are all because of her. There is nothing better than the great big grin on her face when I walk into a room. There is no sound sweeter than her laugh. I can change diapers, wipe snotty noses and clean up spit up without a hazmat suit or throwing up. Not all babies look like aliens (it seems most don't in fact). Babies go through a LOT of diapers and baby wipes. A. Freaking. Lot. Eat, sleep, pee, eat, sleep, poop, eat, sleep, pee, and repeat. I have a lot to learn. (But I've learned a lot.) One bonus item that isn't on the numbered list only because it isn't technically from the baby... Mommy's job never ends. T...