Wednesday, January 10, 2007

Marrying our Fathers

Late Night Pea,

The Ex sent me his wedding photos tonight. It was all tolerable-- like seing an old friend in pictures, until I saw his hand with the ring on it. It's the littlest things that bite. And yet, nothing is sexier on my Boy than his left hand with its ring. I remember touching my father's ring while holding his scratchy hand and somehow, through years of time with him and exposure to "traditional" (read: straight, American, 20th Century, etc.) marriage symbols, I have equated that ring with manliness. But more than manliness-- a kind of strength and fortitude that goes beyond any reasonable expectations a child (or a woman) should have for a father (or a husband). And yet. We've been through this before: invincible fathers, fearless caretakers, fierce daughter-protectors, and on and on. When you look down at the hand of the one you love and there is a shadow of your father's hand (especially if he is Super Dad): wow. So seeing that ring on Ex reminded me that he could not, would not be that man for me a mere two years ago. And yet, I have so much now. Does any of this resonate with you? Or is there something else that your Boy has/does that echoes with your own dad?

Half asleep with head wide awake,
your pea

1 comment:

pea in a pod said...

In his boiler suit (a fancy sailor-esque word for coveralls), smelling like metal after a day of work on an enormous steel ship, Boy brings back memories of my father, fresh from the machine shop, welding torch in hand. My father is, of course, multi-dimensional, but 2 sides of him made formative impressions on me; 1) his aloof, distant, impatient side; 2) his playful, silly, deeply loyal and unconditionally loving side. I used to date men/women who embodied #1; Boy embodies #2. Turns out that marrying the right version of our fathers might make all the difference...