Dad probably never thought he’d have the privilege of watching
another young girl navigate her teen years…though certainly, Eva does
this maneuvering with a fair share more grace than her ol’ ma did…
Never thought he’d get to watch another adolescent boy move
recklessly from teenager to young man (though, for sure, Emilio makes
this all look easy…)
Guess again, dad!
Lucky for you, I get to do the dirty work—
discipline
cook for
nag
reason with
shop for
clean up after
And you get to, simply, love…
With a laugh or two thrown in for good measure.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
civilized, we are
Last Sunday at the dinner table, Eva said to her grandfather, “Your hamburger is upside down.” He smiled and placed it on his plate, carefully turned it the upside way and took another bite.
I’ve noticed that he eats slowly. I don’t know when this happened, or if it has been happening bite by bite these past several years. I don’t have memories of my father being a careful eater. I mean that in the way that I am not a very careful eater. I sometimes eat standing up, I often eat too fast, I don’t chew enough times, and, when at home, I rarely pause to consider the pleasure of the meal.
This has become more apparent to me now that I share the evening meal, several times a week, with my father. He does all of the right things, now, at the dinner table. He is clearly eating less, and when I am finished, lickety-split, right after the two young teens, he is still enjoying the tastes and textures of the meal.
He comments on the menu, how tasty it is, how rather lucky we are to have it.
He lingers and enjoys...this is new for him.
If we don’t watch it, I might have to change my habits to slow down with him.
I’ve noticed that he eats slowly. I don’t know when this happened, or if it has been happening bite by bite these past several years. I don’t have memories of my father being a careful eater. I mean that in the way that I am not a very careful eater. I sometimes eat standing up, I often eat too fast, I don’t chew enough times, and, when at home, I rarely pause to consider the pleasure of the meal.
This has become more apparent to me now that I share the evening meal, several times a week, with my father. He does all of the right things, now, at the dinner table. He is clearly eating less, and when I am finished, lickety-split, right after the two young teens, he is still enjoying the tastes and textures of the meal.
He comments on the menu, how tasty it is, how rather lucky we are to have it.
He lingers and enjoys...this is new for him.
If we don’t watch it, I might have to change my habits to slow down with him.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
commandments...that is...
I'm not certain I remember the other nine...and if I could, I'd be sure to have violated at least several of them...for now, this one is etched deep within me--"honor thy father and thy mother."
Last week, my eighty-four-year-old father came to live with me. He needs a place to settle his aging self, and I need to find ways, in my own middle-age, to get wiser.
For now, here we are, in Sacramento California, me, two early teens, and their grandpa.
this adventure is just beginning...
Last week, my eighty-four-year-old father came to live with me. He needs a place to settle his aging self, and I need to find ways, in my own middle-age, to get wiser.
For now, here we are, in Sacramento California, me, two early teens, and their grandpa.
this adventure is just beginning...
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