By: Jennifer Richardson Holt
Hopefully, you’ll indulge me today on a bit of a stroll. In keeping with the holiday at hand I want to wander around the corners of my mind and scrape from my often unimpressive memory some of the best images that I can muster of what comes to mind when I think of the most important fathers that have appeared in my life. I can’t say that this piece will amount to much more than a mixed bag of fond memories from the distant past and happy recollections of recent days. I can promise no coherent story line, nor that any meaningful lesson will be learned at the end of your reading. What I can offer is what I am hopeful will resurrect your own fond memories or perhaps revive some lost detail of endearing paternity within your own life. If I can come even close to that then these will be words well worth the writing.
The first moments that come to mind are with my own father. Some of the few clear times I can bring to the forefront of my mind from my childhood are what my daddy and I called, “date nights”. They were nothing fancy. Still, on looking back at them I feel I may have missed an opportunity to dress up. However, on Friday nights when I was very small, my daddy and I would go to get an ice cream cone. If there was much more to it than that I cannot recall but I do remember looking forward to them very much. While I cannot deny that my sweet tooth probably had a bit to do with that, I know that I was very excited to spend some time with my daddy, just the two of us.
I’ve already told you in a previous blog of one of my most prized childhood possessions that he made me; my She-Ra sword. I don’t know how much work went into carving that heavy wood into a sword and even putting an old chandelier crystal in the hilt so it was jeweled just like the sword from the cartoon. I do know that I am happy to report those same hands have very recently made sure that both myself and another daddy had swords to match one belonging to my daughter. Those swords too are absolutely priceless to me. He is also constantly making wooden bowls and candlesticks for me that he turns on his lathe. I am so glad to have so many pieces that keep him close to me. If I only had the skill to put a fiddle to use, I’d have one of those by him as well.
One small thing pertaining to my dad that I must not neglect to mention is something that my mother taught me. She taught me a way to cast a spell upon my father. It was a heart melting spell that she taught me to use when I really, really wanted a “yes” answer from him. My mother taught me to flutter my eyelashes at my daddy. Then, appropriately, like magic, you could watch whatever defense he had erected crumble like a sandcastle beneath a wave. Casting the spell and watching it work I admit, was (and is) almost as fun as getting whatever it was that I wanted!
Thinking of my other significant daddies, I think of circus peanuts. If you are unfamiliar with this candy it is some squishy sugar confection that is in the shape of a peanut and inexplicably a shade of pale orange. I never cared for them which is saying something being the sweet lover that I am but my daddy’s daddy was absolutely mad for them. Seeing this treat on the candy aisle invariably makes me think of my grandpa. He has been gone a long time now but that connection in my mind is still very fresh. Similarly, what I recall about my mother’s daddy is from long ago as he passed away when I was merely two years old but the associated imagery is firmly planted. I see overalls. I can’t say if it is from actual memories from so long ago or if I simply have seen him wearing such in most pictures I have seen since but my maternal grandpa cannot be separated from overalls in my mind’s eye.
There is another father that figures more prominently in my life these days. He would be the daddy to my own child. The things he brings to mind are on a list that is growing every day. I see him wrestling with my daughter on our bed, teaching her moves that he saw watching wrestling as a child. You really should see how he has taught her to flip her hair back like the wrestling heroines do. It is, well, something to behold. You should also witness how he has passed his love of water to his daughter. It is a joy to watch the way his face lights up when she squeals as they play in the pool. It’s also of interesting note that when she flutters her eyelashes at him (which may or may not have been a method taught to her by mother and grandmother) the impact is very similar to what I witnessed in my own father. She is a hot knife, his resolve is butter.
Maybe all this talk of fathers has returned some glimmers of love to your mind. I hope that you are smiling as you read. But if for some reason this is not the case, either due to the passage of too much time or unfortunate forgetfulness, you can take these moments that I have related here and use them for your own. Use them to recall smiles, ice cream or fluttering eyelashes. Use them to remember whittling wood, notes played on the guitar or maybe watching a ball game. Whether he is with you or not, whether you can give him a hug or can only grasp memories, I hope today you can think of circus peanuts and smile.
Prose and Possibilities 