Childhood Miscalculations

[nfotxn]

Living with Dad in the UK still hasn't really set in just yet. Slowly I am getting closer to him and despite all the careless things he's done to me and my brother I still have a strong need to understand him.

In France traveling around the south in Dordogne I realised things about my father that I think I'd repressed in the past. Firstly he is whipsmart. Often he'll say something and I will assume Dad is just being crazy again. Then I contemplate what he's said and notice that he's just made a highly calculated observation in what was only milliseconds. His mind often meanders like a toy boat. Bemusedly and merrily down a river of though he goes without any regard paid to the world on shore. It's so childish really. But I have to remind myself that he grew up in a town where not even steam trains reached. That explains his fascination with trains. I've been to Glenelg a few times. It is mysteriously preserved to this day with tourism board money. Sitting forever damp and dreary at the end of a loch, surrounding by hills and trees like it's still 1943.

When he speaks it's with passion and often misdirected but my god still passionate. It's a Highlander thing, I suppose. There's something respectable about being always opposed so adamantly especially in a culture that is so often adamantly consented to indifference. Yes, the stereotypical Scotsman forever immortalized in caricature happens to make up a good 50% of my genetic make-up.

And here's the big one: to admit that I liked Dad was in many ways to admit that I liked myself. Including my less than desireable traits. Growing up without a father figure in our culture is really hard. Consciously or not we define much of our sense of self from our parents. I had to sketch much of that from uncles, teachers and celebrities that I found desireable. I still don't want to be some utilikilt wearing anglophile talking about what clan I belong to. Meeting the real deal as an adult left knocked holes in the person I thought I was. Presented before me was one of my three closest genetic relations and he was not this idealized person that I'd created for myself as a child. Infact being able to construct my male role models almost exclusively as a kid may have even been a bit advantageous up until that point.

Anyhow, it's early and I need to get back to bed. I'm walking down a long unending road right here. But it is nice to know that I've got this far.

Comments

[bearringsd.livejournal.com]

It feels kinda odd when we get to finally understand our parents humanity. They are still these people that you know so intimately, but all of a sudden is like this whole world about them has opened up to you. They seem much more closer somehow and we feel a bit more frail.

I know that's what it was like for me, when I finally understood the history and culture that produced MY parents. I filled in a lot of gaps in my own self-understanding and it felt like this weight was lifted off my shoulders, strangely enough. How could I still hold some of my old grudges against them, now that I understood them (and myself) better?

Thank you for posting this. I liked this entry.

[ex-flowed553.livejournal.com]

First, I agree. Great post. Funny how certain things said or posted can generate varying degrees of response. Well said, Brodie.

I, too, have been recently coming to strange new understandings and perspective on my parents. The most general and obvious discovery I've found: they're human, just like me.

Things like this make me smug with maturity. :) heehee... Have a nice weekend!