When I was a little girl and exhausted, my father used to pick me up and let me sleep on his shoulder. In grocery stores or boring adult gatherings, he’d hold me while I drifted off into my own world. Just to be close, I’d sometimes lift my arms just so he’d let me rest my head. My dad would always lovingly oblige. Knowing sometimes that I was feigning sleep, he’d pretend to scold my siblings and all who could hear, “Everybody, don’t you know ****’s trying to sleep? Everybody quiet! SHH!” It didn’t matter who was around, he’d tell the world to be quiet for me.
It always made me feel that I was the most important thing to my Dad.
He does this now with his grandchildren and I remember it with such tenderness, I often want to cry.
My conservative father doesn’t know that I blog, he’ll likely never read this. But I hope he knows despite our many differences, both big and small, I hope he knows his feminist daughter still loves him, deeply.
Happy Father’s Day.
Love, Shaoloo
Thanks Tbella and Fab. It’s always difficult to bring it close to home, it always feels so much more explosive at home, doesn’t it?
I second turtlebella — these writings about the males in your immediate family are quite touching.
It is also the hardest I think — when you bring it close to home. You’re inspiring me to write about the males in mine.
Thank you.
That’s really quite beautiful. Your dad sounds very loving.