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Talks With Dad
Fathers can be so important — in childhood, and when you actually grow up, which takes some of us a little longer than others.
When I was in my early 20’s, I called my Dad.
Asked him to have lunch with me.
“Don’t you want your Mom to come?”
“Well, Dad, no…. This time, I want it to be just you and me.”
“Well, okay. That’s fine.”
Up to that point, when I would call home…
“Hey Pris!” he would gaily exclaim. “How are you? Let me get your Mom…. Betty (he would call).” And I would hear him put the phone down. Trail off to go get my mother.
It’s not that he wasn’t interested. I am sure, after the call, he would ask my mother about what we had said.
We just didn’t talk. Me and him. I was 23 years old. I wanted to get to know my father. I longed for a more direct connection with him.
We had that lunch. And I told him just that.
It took us about 20 years to accomplish it. Slowly but surely, we developed our own relationship. Separate from my mom.
