When I was growing up, I was very conscious of liking women and girls more than men. Boys were in a separate category, where some were friendly and interesting and some were on another wave length or were natural competition. There were men I enjoyed but men generally seemed noticeably more impersonal. When I read about famous men or stories of heroes, I was definitely interested and intrigued. But in my family where I was with the actual people, the women seemed to be more open to genuine exchange of friendliness by talk than my male relatives.
My father seemed gentle and approachable but after the approach, I never seemed to get very far in understanding him or feeling that he was interested in or understood me. When my parents divorced at about my age of 10, my mother told me one day that my father wouldn't be living with us any more. My father did not tell me himself nor speak to me about his feelings. It seems to me now that he just disappeared. I was not offended nor hurt, but thinking back at what I remember of the splitting of my parents, I wonder at leaving in such a smoke-blown-away manner.
For several years afterward, my father took my sister and me out to dinner and a movie weekly and I enjoyed those occasions very much. But again, in retrospect, it is the event of eating out and getting to select a theater from the dozens listed in the paper that I remember enjoying.
Thinking about being told that my father wouldn't be living with us reminds me of being driven by my father in our car for the 100 mile trip to my mother's only sibling's house. At that time, such a trip would have taken at least 2 hours. I recall getting out of the car at night and stepping into the bright light of the farm yard while my mother (in a male-like way, I hadn't seemed to notice she wasn't with us until that moment) ran up to us. She said clearly and calmly," Billy, your cousin Tommy has died." That was shocking news and I still remember it.
But beyond the immediate questions of how and why my only male relative of my age had died, I wonder now about driving a little boy all that time and not discussing with me the purpose of the trip. I imagine that it was another occasion of the dad leaving the talking to the mom. My mom was very good at it and she talked to me helpfully all my life but I wish I had had a few more heart to heart talks with my father.
http://fearfunandfiloz.blogspot.com/
My father seemed gentle and approachable but after the approach, I never seemed to get very far in understanding him or feeling that he was interested in or understood me. When my parents divorced at about my age of 10, my mother told me one day that my father wouldn't be living with us any more. My father did not tell me himself nor speak to me about his feelings. It seems to me now that he just disappeared. I was not offended nor hurt, but thinking back at what I remember of the splitting of my parents, I wonder at leaving in such a smoke-blown-away manner.
For several years afterward, my father took my sister and me out to dinner and a movie weekly and I enjoyed those occasions very much. But again, in retrospect, it is the event of eating out and getting to select a theater from the dozens listed in the paper that I remember enjoying.
Thinking about being told that my father wouldn't be living with us reminds me of being driven by my father in our car for the 100 mile trip to my mother's only sibling's house. At that time, such a trip would have taken at least 2 hours. I recall getting out of the car at night and stepping into the bright light of the farm yard while my mother (in a male-like way, I hadn't seemed to notice she wasn't with us until that moment) ran up to us. She said clearly and calmly," Billy, your cousin Tommy has died." That was shocking news and I still remember it.
But beyond the immediate questions of how and why my only male relative of my age had died, I wonder now about driving a little boy all that time and not discussing with me the purpose of the trip. I imagine that it was another occasion of the dad leaving the talking to the mom. My mom was very good at it and she talked to me helpfully all my life but I wish I had had a few more heart to heart talks with my father.
http://fearfunandfiloz.blogspot.com/
