About me
I compose beautiful posts in my sleep; never when I can actually type! So, I am going to do a series of meme's just to get my fingers moving.
Where did your father go to work every day and what did he do? How did his job affect your family?
My dad didn't go to work every day. He left the house on Monday morning and came home Friday night, then went into the local office for half a day on Sat morning. I did not think this was at all odd. As a matter of fact, I thought my friends whose dads came home at the same time every night were the odd ones! (how boring -- how routine! pfft -- they never got to have a picnic on the living-room floor for dinner!)
What did he do, you ask? He was a travelling sales-man I tell you. What did he sell? Tires, I guess. (No, he did not go door-to-door selling tires.)
So, my mom was in essence a "part-time single mom." She was the discliplinarian, she was the law! I am the oldest of three girls - with a ten-year difference between oldest and youngest. Mom was the greatest! How she managed three girls all at different temperments I'll never know. I had enough trouble figuring out ONE girl!!
I remember as I got older, sometimes she would 'forget' to tell my dad things that happened. One particular incident stands out in my mind. I was driving my mom's car, when I heard a scraping sound behind me. I drove home and got mom to come look at it. Come to find out, the gas tank was hanging by two bolts and dragging! I BACKED OUT OF THE DRIVEWAY and drove to the nearest gas station. (Talk about DUMB) The guys at the service station put it up on the rack and got it fixed right away. (THAT wouldn't happen these days! Nothing gets done without at least a four-hour wait.) A few weeks later, I asked my mom what dad said about the gas tank problem. She said "Well, he didn't ask, so I didn't tel him." Somehow that hit me as hysterical. I could just imagine my dad coming home from a long week at work and asking "So, (Mom'sName) by any chance did the gas tank fall off of the car this week?"
Although this arrangement seemed to be normal to me (only because we did not know anything different)it had a profound effect on the family. I love my dad dearly (he is 80 years old now, and in great health) but we are not real close. I see him a couple times a year -- and talk to him about once every 6 weeks or so, but we are not close. My younger sisters are much closer than I am. Due to circumstances that occurred after I went away to college, they spent more time with him than I did.
Also, I have come to the conclusion lo these many years later that my mom probably suffered from depression. Sadly, I never got to find out from her first-hand how she felt about her life because she died very young. (She was 41 - I was 21 when she passed away; a post for a different day.)
Where did your father go to work every day and what did he do? How did his job affect your family?
My dad didn't go to work every day. He left the house on Monday morning and came home Friday night, then went into the local office for half a day on Sat morning. I did not think this was at all odd. As a matter of fact, I thought my friends whose dads came home at the same time every night were the odd ones! (how boring -- how routine! pfft -- they never got to have a picnic on the living-room floor for dinner!)
What did he do, you ask? He was a travelling sales-man I tell you. What did he sell? Tires, I guess. (No, he did not go door-to-door selling tires.)
So, my mom was in essence a "part-time single mom." She was the discliplinarian, she was the law! I am the oldest of three girls - with a ten-year difference between oldest and youngest. Mom was the greatest! How she managed three girls all at different temperments I'll never know. I had enough trouble figuring out ONE girl!!
I remember as I got older, sometimes she would 'forget' to tell my dad things that happened. One particular incident stands out in my mind. I was driving my mom's car, when I heard a scraping sound behind me. I drove home and got mom to come look at it. Come to find out, the gas tank was hanging by two bolts and dragging! I BACKED OUT OF THE DRIVEWAY and drove to the nearest gas station. (Talk about DUMB) The guys at the service station put it up on the rack and got it fixed right away. (THAT wouldn't happen these days! Nothing gets done without at least a four-hour wait.) A few weeks later, I asked my mom what dad said about the gas tank problem. She said "Well, he didn't ask, so I didn't tel him." Somehow that hit me as hysterical. I could just imagine my dad coming home from a long week at work and asking "So, (Mom'sName) by any chance did the gas tank fall off of the car this week?"
Although this arrangement seemed to be normal to me (only because we did not know anything different)it had a profound effect on the family. I love my dad dearly (he is 80 years old now, and in great health) but we are not real close. I see him a couple times a year -- and talk to him about once every 6 weeks or so, but we are not close. My younger sisters are much closer than I am. Due to circumstances that occurred after I went away to college, they spent more time with him than I did.
Also, I have come to the conclusion lo these many years later that my mom probably suffered from depression. Sadly, I never got to find out from her first-hand how she felt about her life because she died very young. (She was 41 - I was 21 when she passed away; a post for a different day.)
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home