Fathers (from Lefty, to Manny, to Dave, to Varick, and my Hans)
With a week to go until Father's Day, with new interactions between myself and my friends as first-time fathers, with a fresh photo arriving in my in-box yesterday of my younger brother (less than two months from turning 40) proudly holding his newest and fourth baby, and with my own husband living his life as a hands-on, nearly-always-available Papa to our girls, I am feeling a strong desire to write about the first, most important Dad in my life. My unconscious got going, I'm sure, because my Dad would have turned 76 this week (June 8th) and I had my first dream about him that I've had in a long, long time.
The dream was clearly of a much younger me (maybe I was all of 17 which means I wasn't even dating my husband at the time and in that funny, perhaps Freudian, way I could still be idealizing my Dad vs. turning my eyes towards my future-mate) and a much younger - totally dark-haired - Dad. We were in my parents' room and Dad and I were tackling the very simple task of straightening up the mess. There were piles of magazines and newspapers, perhaps a dirty plate and drinking glass or two, chairs askew, and maybe even a drawn shade or two that needed raising. I would be venturing into the made up or embellished side of things if I kept going, so I'll stop there. The point was that were working side-by-side, accomplishing a household chore that made Dad feel good and appreciative of my kind of help and vision regarding what makes things neat and inviting. This kind of work with my Dad always made me feel good.
These days, my domestic streak borders on a "nesting" energy and it is not escaping me that my dream contains a chunk of wish fulfillment; i.e., I wish my Dad and I could work together again setting up my nest. And, I wish he was here to greet and know my fourth baby (and, of course, to fully know and love my three girls- his granddaughters - as much as I know he would). Dreams about Dads. Putting things right. Our baby will be named for my Dad, whether a girl or boy. That feels good and right.
Signing off with love and reverence at 26 weeks along, 65% through, or at 2:30 p.m. if you think of my pregnancy as an eight-hour (9 a.m. - 5 p.m.) day...
- ARC
The dream was clearly of a much younger me (maybe I was all of 17 which means I wasn't even dating my husband at the time and in that funny, perhaps Freudian, way I could still be idealizing my Dad vs. turning my eyes towards my future-mate) and a much younger - totally dark-haired - Dad. We were in my parents' room and Dad and I were tackling the very simple task of straightening up the mess. There were piles of magazines and newspapers, perhaps a dirty plate and drinking glass or two, chairs askew, and maybe even a drawn shade or two that needed raising. I would be venturing into the made up or embellished side of things if I kept going, so I'll stop there. The point was that were working side-by-side, accomplishing a household chore that made Dad feel good and appreciative of my kind of help and vision regarding what makes things neat and inviting. This kind of work with my Dad always made me feel good.
These days, my domestic streak borders on a "nesting" energy and it is not escaping me that my dream contains a chunk of wish fulfillment; i.e., I wish my Dad and I could work together again setting up my nest. And, I wish he was here to greet and know my fourth baby (and, of course, to fully know and love my three girls- his granddaughters - as much as I know he would). Dreams about Dads. Putting things right. Our baby will be named for my Dad, whether a girl or boy. That feels good and right.
Signing off with love and reverence at 26 weeks along, 65% through, or at 2:30 p.m. if you think of my pregnancy as an eight-hour (9 a.m. - 5 p.m.) day...
- ARC
posted by Pearls of Wisdom at
9:57 AM
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