Dad's Day Is Gone--But Questions Linger

Father’s Day is over. The knotty questions it posed linger.

I wonder, for instance, if children can truly know their father (or mother ). Can they really understand a parent as well as their parent’s close friends do?

Are children of this era  even curious about what makes Dad click?  Do they ask questions? Does it matter?

          After all for youngsters, all time--all history--begins with their birth. They live in the present and wonder about the future. But about Mom or Dad’s past? Not so much, I suspect.

No Time for Chatting

         Then too, there is little time available for calm chats. Distraction devours the days.

The glimpses one gets of today’s fathers reveals hustling chaps who serve as chauffeurs, sports coaches, fans, and prods urging kids to do their homework and to generally do better.

You might ponder such questions too, if you could search back decades to a time before smart phones, tweeting, computers, television sets, and tightly-organized extracurricular everything.

Conjure an Image

          Can you imagine a family sitting on a front porch after supper listening to the cicadas and quietly watching a summer day slink into darkness?

 A little boy breaks the silence.

“Dad, were you in the Army during the war?” (Meaning WW I.)

          “Didn’t want to go into the Army. Tried to enlist in the Navy.  Navy wouldn’t have me. So I joined the Merchant Marine.”

A Beacon in the Dark

 The tip of his cigar glows brightly for a second. The smell of Dutch Master perfumes the air.

          “Why?”

          “Why what?”

          “Why wouldn’t the Navy have you?”

          “I had some bad teeth and was too poor to get them fixed. The Navy didn’t like that.”

          “Was it hard?

          “To have bad teeth?”

          “No! To be in the Merchant Marine?”

          “ Lots of time it was. Not always.” 

The Past Unfolds

A complete biography could unwind in the course of many summer evenings and before bedtime on winter nights when there was nothing good on radio.

But: 

          I heard a vague anecdote recently about a young man who learned for the first time during a eulogy at this father’s funeral that his dad was a decorated war hero. The incident reminded me of Scott Turow’s protagonist in his brilliant and gripping novel, Ordinary Heroes.

Turow’s character, son of a prominent attorney, is called to settle his dead father’s affairs.  He learns for the first time that his reserved, aloof, and seemingly unloving father had traumatic combat experiences. He was, in fact, a remarkable and decorated officer. The son investigates further and uncovers details of his father’s life. The knowledge alters the son’s view of his father and of himself. The wounds suffered from his father’s inattention and lack of love start healing.

A Question; an Aswer

It seems that Knowledge enables understanding, and understanding enables love.

 So does it matter if a youngster learns what makes his father or mother click?

I believe it does.

                                                 --Gus Gribbin