In the middle of these calamitous times that we are living in, my eighty year old father decided to rely on no man but himself to get his bag of rice. That trip to the grocery store ended with him tripping on the escalator and getting a head injury. He was very fortunate that he did not suffer consequences beyond a wound and some bleeding. But it produced days of anxiety for us all who tried and failed to corral him. Stir crazy old people are not much easier to manage than children.
The conversations I have with him these days are no different from those I had with J when she was a child. He is not openly defiant but finds loopholes in what he has been forbidden to do. It's like a game for him just as it would be for a toddler - see what boundaries he can push and get away with. There is something wonderfully endearing to see my father as he may have been as a child except that he actions produce incredible stress for me.
I wanted to write about how this whole event felt - at the time I heard about it, his attempts to make it took like it was not his fault and finally when he came into compliance and I felt sad I broke his spirit. It brought home the realization that we don't know how deep our love runs for those with whom we have a difficult relationship. I have admired him for as long as I remember and wanted to be like him. My entire life has been about being a daughter worthy of him. And yet our relationship has been extremely contentious, wild disagreements, loud arguments and long silences have been the predominant themes.
Yet somewhere beneath all that turmoil lies something deeper - maybe that is love and attachment that cannot be undone. Interestingly enough, watching this most recent debacle unfold, J commented that grandpa and I are not so far apart "Like father, like daughter" she said. She fully expects that I will be all but impossible to manage by the time I am his age - I will act obtuse and confused by turn to get away with my infractions just as he does. According to J, she is getting a preview of what her life will be like when I am old. Maybe there is some truth to what she says.
The conversations I have with him these days are no different from those I had with J when she was a child. He is not openly defiant but finds loopholes in what he has been forbidden to do. It's like a game for him just as it would be for a toddler - see what boundaries he can push and get away with. There is something wonderfully endearing to see my father as he may have been as a child except that he actions produce incredible stress for me.
I wanted to write about how this whole event felt - at the time I heard about it, his attempts to make it took like it was not his fault and finally when he came into compliance and I felt sad I broke his spirit. It brought home the realization that we don't know how deep our love runs for those with whom we have a difficult relationship. I have admired him for as long as I remember and wanted to be like him. My entire life has been about being a daughter worthy of him. And yet our relationship has been extremely contentious, wild disagreements, loud arguments and long silences have been the predominant themes.
Yet somewhere beneath all that turmoil lies something deeper - maybe that is love and attachment that cannot be undone. Interestingly enough, watching this most recent debacle unfold, J commented that grandpa and I are not so far apart "Like father, like daughter" she said. She fully expects that I will be all but impossible to manage by the time I am his age - I will act obtuse and confused by turn to get away with my infractions just as he does. According to J, she is getting a preview of what her life will be like when I am old. Maybe there is some truth to what she says.
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