Friday, November 28, 2008

A Simple Thank You

Did your parent praise you - or even thank you?

Dad didn't give praise verbally. He wrote checks. He made sure you had what you needed (not what you wanted). He rarely acknowledged how proud he might (or might not) be. Even if friends asked him directly, "aren't you proud of her? Do you know what your daughter has accomplished? Did you know..." and then proceeded with a listing of my achievement...even then, dad would just nod and smile and maybe mutter, under his breath, "yes, that's right...."

But you never knew if he was really proud of you. Or if he even had any idea what you did or who you were. It was hard to know if he was or wasn't paying attention. I interpreted his non-responsiveness and apparent disinterest as not caring. I think I may have been wrong.

I'm not sure dad knew how to be proud of us. He didn't know how to value himself, so how could he value his children and their accomplishments?

Last Christmas, the last time I saw dad alive, he was not feeling well. He was tired and struggling with his breathing in the cold air. But I knew that he would love dinner at the neighborhood Italian restaurant, Tonio's. So we went to Tonio's just before he left to return to England.

Somewhere between dinner and dessert, dad asked us to stop talking; he had something to say. He made a toast to me, acknowledging my efforts to make a nice visit for him. And he said, "thank you".

On my worst days, when I feel so deeply how I failed my dad...I hold on to that. I know, at the very least, that in that moment I did good. It may turn out to be the most significant moment in my life with dad.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

My cousin, her husband and I were talking about our fathers who had all died. Ray (the husband) had a father who never acknowledged him or told him he even liked him. He put him in a class for slow kids; Ray became an engineer. He wasn't stupid, he was just so emotionally neglected by his parents that he couldn't interact with people very well. When his father was dying, his final gesture was to shake Ray's hand. I said, "Oh Ray, that's so sad." My cousin, Linda, his wife, also had a cold father. Linda said, "I would have been ecstatic if my father had shaken my hand."

And then you realize how lucky you are.