It’s been hanging on the wall in the guest bathroom for as long as I can remember: a needlepoint picture of a sailboat (made by my grandmother long before I was even an accidental twinkle in my mother’s worried eye) and a silly poem, stitched in bright green floss.
The only difference between men and boys
Is the price of their toys
I’m not even quite sure where I’m going with this, or why exactly I felt compelled to share it, except that ever since my conversation with my father on Sunday evening, the rhyme been going through my mind over and over. The only difference between men and boys…
When I was about six or seven, I asked my mother about poem. What did that mean, the only difference? I could count plenty of differences between my brother and my father. Plenty more than who has more expensive hobbies. Mostly, it was a joke, she’d explained, but even my grandfather was a little boy at heart.
No one ever really grows up.
That’s what she should have said.
On Sunday, I’d flopped onto the couch, sweaty and tired. What little energy left unexhausted by the day’s heat and frustration had just been sapped away through the phone lines. Another phone call turned into a painful therapy session. I propped my feet up on the ottoman, and without thinking, sighed, The only difference…
It was Father’s Day.
I felt as though I’d just been talking to a child.
It’s so easy to become frustrated with my father – to get angry as our talk digresses and yet again, I’m forced to avoid, placate and wrangle. To manipulate the conversation and redirect it lest we end up in Crazy Town. Again. It’s a continuous battle between my love for him, for the expectations I have of him and what, in reality, he is capable of.
Why the sailboat and the silly poem?
I don’t have a clue as to why it decided to resurface in response to that phone call.
It’d be one hell of a stretch to try to connect the two and craft a metaphor that wasn’t totally affected and… lame. I mean, toys schmoys. I know that the only real difference between a child and their grown-up self is the complexity of their coping mechanisms. And my father’s been reduced to some pretty juvenile ones. And I know that the emotions are all the same; we’re all still afraid, and excitable and foolish and vain and vulnerable. No one really ever really does grow up in that sense, I guess.
Okay. I’m going to stop before I accidentally make a metaphor. That wasn’t what I was trying to accomplish. I just think it’s interesting, is all.
More stories about my father
Early Mourning
Horace Stories
Delicate
Gently Down the Stream
Note: Do not use the comments box to give advice or diagnoses regarding my father. Just don’t. Because I promise I will crawl through the internet and cut you.
I roared with laughter over your Note: and had to comment as a result. I don’t think I’m that type … so no need to crawl through the internet to cut me which, by the way, is a pretty humourous image.
No advice or cheap diagnose from me. Just that I’m sorry your father is finding it difficult to cope.
I hope your daddy gets better soon.
From his talent for story-telling through his love for wild birds and the illness that wrecks him, your dad sounds an awful lot like mine.
There’s absolutely no point in saying something trite like, “I think I understand a little bit how you feel, and I’m sorry you’re going through this,” because it doesn’t *really* do any good. But I couldn’t help myself because I do and I am, so there it is.
It takes a lot of courage to share your story with so much compassion and dignity. Thank you for sharing.
Why do your posts always remind me of mine?
Men are fascinating to me. They’re little boys in one sense, but in another, they’re everything I wish I could be – simple, confident, unweighed down by overanalysis and worry.
Generally speaking, of course.
I realized I was an adult when I recognized my parent’s coping mechanisms for the first time; saw their faults and mistakes… and loved them even more for that. Realizing they were human was both frightening and freeing.
I can’t say I understand your situation, but I do understand the compassion and frustration.
Best of luck to you.
Good luck to you.
No advice, just general thoughts that boys; of all ages and size, suck.
“boys are stupid” *sigh*
Like the poem and image.
oh, the image! a The Ring-style bedraggled fish dressed in pink crawling through a computer screen and SLICE SLICE and “i warned you!” and crawling back… it’s brilliant. i’m not sure you meant it to be funny, so much, but i love it. thanks.
XO
your father’s day sounds very similar to my mother’s day. ::sigh::
its a sad thing when we have to accept the role reversal: we must be the adult to their (sometimes mental, sometimes physical) decline back into child-ness and dependance.
have you read Rohinton Mistry’s ‘Family Matters’? I read it after a few years of dealing with my mother’s bi-polar swings, and it really helped me to see a larger view of our evolving relationship, and it gave me some perspective against which to count the blessings of my own situation. I recommend it.
Please don’t do that. Don’t use ‘dooceisms’ like “cut you”. It takes away from your blog. It takes away from what is great about you.
Don’t you dare. Random threats of violence are what keeps me coming back here. Does that make me a masochist?
“Cut you” is way more popular than Dooce.
Ignore Jane, please.
i talked to him for 3 minutes and 24 seconds. first time i talked to him in about two months. it’s just so hard, almost awkward to talk to him now. i talked to him for 3 minutes and 24 seconds. first time i talked to him in about two months. it’s just so hard, almost awkward to talk to him now.
I guess I shouldn’t be surprised anymore when I try to articulate my feelings about my own father and flounder at it, then read your blog and find there exactly what I was trying to say. Thanks for making me feel less alone.
It’s strange how someone I don’t know can echo familiar feelings. The Role reversal with my father and I began at 15 when my parents divorced…his quick continuation in a downward spiral of mental illness and alcoholism have left him bitter and angry with no ounce of parent left in him. He still blames me for the rift in our relationship and after all this time I cannot bridge that gap again. You seem like such a strong person with how you can hold things together, I really admire that about you.
Awesome stuff. I have watched the physical and mental decline of my father and it is sad. I remember the strong, stern, healthy man who was IN CHARGE. now, he’s weak and helpless as a baby. I never had a close relationship with him, and I’m grieving the dad I wished I had, as well as the one I did have. My heart goes out to you and I hope your memories of the good times help you through this. It’s amazing how the internet can touch so many people’s lives. Thank you.
Crawling through the internet reminded me too much of Samara. Blah. Soggy, scary little brat.
For me its mother’s day. My mom died almost eight years ago now and I still find myself at loose ends on that day in May. How do I respond to “what are you doing for mother’s day?” Not being a mother and not having a mother anymore means its just another Sunday for me while the rest of the world celebrates. A more painful version of how I felt in elementary school when all my friends took the day off for Yum Kippur and I was stuck in math class..
Thanks for showing me the parallels between my loss of a parent and yours. Beautifully written.
Going through something similar with my Mom. If I made the same decisions she’s making, she’d rip me to shreds. It’s amazing to hear a 65 yr old woman rationalize like a teenager.
Sorry you’re going through this…being a parent to your own parent sucks.
No advice or diagnoses, Fish, I promise! (So yeah, please restrain from the physical violence…) I have been estranged from my own father for the past ten years (his choice, not mine). I considered being the bigger person and sending him a FD card, but ultimately didn’t. It would be too much of an emotional burden for me to carry and frankly, just a messy situation that I would prefer not to start. Just wanted to let you know that I feel your pain somewhat and empathize with what you seemed to be feeling. It’s really hard to have to be the adult in the relationship all the time.
Ha ha– June 20 is my dad’s birthday. I gave him a card. The front said “The difference between boys and men is…” and you open the card and it says “age. You are a man.” I wrote something entirely smartass on it. Because my dad is still a boy and still does not get it. Also, his Father’s Day card said something about him being special. I made a special note that I did not put quotes around the word special… I just thought that I should point it out to him.
HUGS!!!
“I know that the only real difference between a child and their grown-up self is the complexity of their coping mechanisms. . . .”
Thank you. The comment about the dignity with which you shared your story was right on – I only wish I could exhibit a semblance of the same in my dealings with my mom.
1. I wouldn’t dare.
2. I know.
3. I am sorry.
4. I can’t wait to see you in September.
5. Joyce, call me dammit!
The Durex Linguistic Condom (patent pending) is designed specifically to prevent accidental metaphors.
By the way, never give up on the phrase “cut you.”
One of the crappiest things about growing up is having to see my parents as people, rather than just my parents. It’s also one of the best things. I just hate that the good things are always the hardest.
fathers really do come in different shapes and sizes… geez you can imagine mine… but things are getting better w/ him…
smiles for you
didn’t someone once say something like, change is inevitable, growth is optional. Or some crap like that. Most people aren’t too far from the child they once were because who wants to outgrow all that fun stuff.
And yeah, almost every man I know, including my father, is an overgrown child.
I believe it was “growing old is mandatory but growing up is optional”
Not wanting to take this too far afield, but to those who keep saying, every man is an overgrown child, please be aware that this sounds a hell of a lot like, every assertive woman is a bitch.
There are more than a few of us who grew up, GWB nonwithstanding.
I don’t know a single woman (myself included) who doesn’t have a mess of a relationship with her father. That’s all.
This posting was fun. Your note was hilarious and I know who would win if I was to meet you in a dark alley. I enjoyed the comments.
All I have to say is keep up the good fight!
I have been a big fan of your work for a long time now. I can proudly say that I am one of those who visits your blog every morning to read what you have to say.:o)
I have just launched a monthly creative women’s e-zine and would like to invite you to write for it. You can talk about anything appealing to a Women audience. I do hope you like the idea!
Please let me know if you would like to be part of this venture. I would be very grateful if you did.
Look to hear from you soon, Meena
(www.girlenroute.com)
we should just watch Greys reruns. That doesn’t count as advice when the show is totally awesome does it?
I hope you, and your father both feel better soon.
Do you realize that I got all of the way through the post, then almost all the way through the comments before I said, out loud in my cubicle, **** I FORGOT TO CALL MY FATHER! Only 4 days late.
First my grandmother and now my own mother. I’m sorry you’re in the same boat with me. It’s frightening the changes we have to deal with in life. Good luck with it all.
Oh Tanya, that’s so sad, I’m so sorry … my relationship with my dad certainly has it’s ups and downs but it’s a good one … and, after reading all the above comments, one I’m going to appreciate even more now! He’s most certainly not an overgrown boy, is most certainly my dad, and has grown through various traumas in his life, not been overcome by them – and there have been plenty of trauma’s, from an immigrant father with bipolar, to being the poor barefoot ‘wog’ at school, and so on. That’s not a criticism either, to those who leap to their dad’s defence, it’s just how he is … and it’s not to say he’s done everything right in our relationship either – but then neither have I! In fact, even though it’s not Father’s Day in Australia until September, I think I might dash out and buy him a card and tell him how I feel, just because I can.
It’s rough losing someone to mental illness. My husband was diagnosed schizaphrenic with major depression a little over a year into our marriage and 6 years into our relationship. He left me last year and we are now going through the stages of divorce. I’m extremely sad, but what I’m probably most sad about is that the person I fell in love with doesn’t exist any more.
I’ve read your blog and it made me cry. I know that this doesn’t help but I am sorry and really do wish you well. I am only twenty four and my own dad’s health isn’t all that great and I’m just not ready to face that path I guess no one is but I wanted to let you know that I admire you. You seem to be handling your stress very well you know with a dog and a lazy ass friend. I just don’t know if I would do as well as you. You seem to be a strong person and I admire you for that.
Hey again. I don’t even know if you’ll read this.
But I thought I’d comment, to say two things:
#1: I’m sorry that your dad isn’t well, and the problems that it gives you and your family. While not exactly the same, I understand about the frustration.
#2: Completely differently, I enjoy your comment about crawling through the internet. Please do, it would be lovely to see you.
one I’m going to appreciate even more now! He’s most certainly not an overgrown boy, is most certainly my dad, and has grown through various traumas in his life, not been overcome by them – and there have been plenty of trauma’s, from an immigrant father with bipolar, to being the poor barefoot ‘wog’ at school, and so on.
The Role reversal with my father and I began at 15 when my parents divorced…his quick continuation in a downward spiral of mental illness and alcoholism have left him bitter and angry with no ounce of parent left in him. He still blames me for the rift in our relationship and after all this time I cannot bridge that gap again.