"Tell us about a moment with your dad that serves as an example of one of his best qualities. That would be a personal moment between you and dad."
Thanks for the reminder, John. It sent me charging out in one of the few dry-sky moments to get a card into the mail for Jay's father.
My relationship with my (late) father wasn't pleasant. It consisted mostly of fear, traps, screams in the night, broken bones, beatings past unconsciousness, and comments that took 50 years and 4.5 years of twice a week psychotherapy to get past. But there is one pleasant story that has stuck with me. (Daughter, you know this one. You can skip it.)
My last summer of college I was interviewing for teaching jobs. I had a Saturday morning interview in a small town in southeastern Pennsylvania. My father was returning to Wright Patterson AFB that Friday, and it was not too far out of his way to pick me up at the college on Friday afternoon and drop me off, saving me a bus trip.
The town had a Coast Guard station, so there were a lot of little inexpensive motels where the rooms consisted of individual cabins. My father chose one for me. He was going to continue on to Ohio. We were in the office, and he was filling out the card to register me, and asked the woman behind the desk if I would be able to get a taxi into town in the morning. She was extremely nasty to both of us, slamming down the card, giving short answers. Thunder on her face.
I was looking at postcards near the door, and I found a funny one. I turned to him and said "Daddy, here's a perfect one for Major Munson."
The woman brightened. "Daddy! Daddy? He's your FATHER!?" After that she was extra nice to us, fluttering all over us to be helpful. Daddy was in mufti, but still looked very military. She had thought he was from the local base and was taking terrible advantage of me. He chuckled all the way out the door.
We went to a diner for dinner. He got a full meal, and I got a sandwich. At the end of the meal, I asked if I could have a dish of vanilla ice cream, and he said "No." Period. No discussion. When the waitress came and asked if we wanted desert, I said "No thank you", and he said "I'll have vanilla ice cream." I was sad, but this was normal. We often got to sit and watch him eat things we weren't allowed to have.
When the ice cream came, he passed it across the table to me. "Here. It comes with my dinner. No sense paying extra."
I was floored. It was so unexpected! So different. Not even a trick.
I guess he was still chuckling inside about being mistaken for my lover. The "his best quality" part of the assignment? He had a sense of humor.
And that's the most pleasant story I have.
~~Silk
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