It has been kind of odd lately, that I have been seeing my dad. Did I mention that he passed away in December … of 1985? It’s not that I see him sitting at the kitchen table or perched on the dresser in the bedroom or passing through walls, as one would expect when a story starts out like this but mostly when I happen to see my own eyes in the rear view mirror of the car. “Oh, hi dad, what’s new”?
Dad had the nicest, sky blue eyes that you ever saw. Not like mine at all. Mine come from mom’s side of the family, kinda green. Now that I have reached the decade age that I last remember him, it has become spooky how similar the wrinkles have become. And I appear to have lots to say to the old man. “Did ya see that game; Canada beat the Russians but lost to the USA in the Gold Medal round?” And speaking of the USA, “What do you think of the idiot they elected for president?” These are just a few of the things we discussed almost on a daily basis, way back when.
I’ve also started seeing my dad the way I saw him as a kid. He was 33 when I was born so I really only remember his features from when he was about 38 or 39 years old. Now I see flashes of dad in my son Shane who is now 38. It seems to be a continuum that covers the years from start to finish. None of these flashbacks are identical, spitting images but are nevertheless close enough to trigger that memory. Oh wow. Hi dad, what’s new?
Dad and I did a lot of work together. He taught me how to fix cars, build houses and how to take care of a family. I worked hard to be equal in my father’s eyes. I learned to work as a partner when building; to anticipate what was needed; to keep up with the pace and rhythm. He was no doubt proud when I could do that; when I became a union carpenter; and when I got a scholarship to SFU; when I started teaching. And when I needed a hand, he was there. Hey dad, can you give me a ride. He and I had long rides – to Prince George, to California, to New York.
I’ve never seen my mom lurking about in the same way as dad. I would see reminders of mom in the whole when some woman looks or behaves the way I remember mom but that was always in a single situation, and I remember her laugh, not her eyes. Dad has begun to reappear regularly. I will have to stop glancing in the mirror or start talking to myself. Hi dad, what’s new? Well, did ya see….
Skorpisto65 