I was a Father. Again.
Enormous responsibility.
I had yet to hear of the phrase, "If you are ungrateful for your gifts, they will be taken from you."
But I would.
It was the end of summer and I was the proud and scared shitless Father of twin girls. Little angels to be sure. My faith was stronger then.
As I write this, these two are in college, and I wade through a small crisis of faith while paying every spare penny to child support. It doesn't amount to much, but I keep plugging.
For three grown kids. Don't ask.
My bad.
Anyway, so here we are entering the 'holiday season.' Shite.
Thanksgiving, more so than Christmas-for some ironic reason tended to be more violent within my family.
Growing up someone would be punched and someones wife would cry and insults flew like hot giblets. I remember there was Scotch. (The pre-recovery as a family period...more 'issues' per room than waiting for the Dr.)
I had been elected Goal tender for my Dad's personal mental hockey onslaught, so it always had a warm place in my heart as a 'special' time of year.
And that was just on the way to dinner. Dad, driving with one hand and punching me in the teeth with the other, blood in my Peter Frampton hair.
The army seemed like the easier, softer way; so one Thanksgiving I asked him to sign the enlistment papers. I would leave for basic the first of January. A tour in Germany. I could graduate in the army. And don't forget College.
My Dad signed without hesitation. I had him at "I want to join..."
3 comments:
It is Thanksgiving morning. I am working today. We have 900 reservations. I feel I am screwed. Happy Holiday to all...
If you're doing all you can to pay child support, kudos--no bad.
If you're Irish and sober, more kudos..
I'm Irish plus a little German and could never drink without getting a headache.
But Thanksgiving when I was growing up was a family riot. My parents were so anxious about getting the big meal on the table, no kids were allowed in the kitchen until it was time to clean up. What should we do in the meantime? What if we were hungry after nine am Mass?
In the garage there was cold beer. All we wanted, my parents said. It would fill us up. One of my sisters and I always spent the day at the movies.
But my siblings who helped themselves to the cold ones and watched TV? They're still trying to get sober. Ya gotta love traditions!
Oh, and Geoffrey, Happy Thanksgiving! That is, be grateful to yourself and who are: you've done good, coming up from down low!
I was right, a day much like the British Navy, filled with rum and buggery. (Other peoples...)Glad that's over.
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