IN the movie Fiddler on the Roof, the main character, Reb Tevye, who is the father to three girls, is forced to go through a series of changes in the way he relates to life. Because he has no real control over what is happening, he has to adapt to those changes whether he wants to or not.
At his funeral, I referred to my father as having gone through all the same stuff. He was uncomfortable with his daughters growing up in the sixties and experiencing all the "freedoms" they thought they had. He was able to relate to me because I followed the path he set for me, with no confrontation.
I am now experiencing the same "Oh-my-gods-what-the hell-is-going-on-here" part of my life.
My sons have grown and moved on their own. One in the Navy, now out in the Gulf of somewhere, putting airplanes back together after pilots find ways to abuse them. The second son is living nearby, is married and has supplied us with the cutest granddaughter we could ever hope for. She is growing smarter and stronger every day. There may be talk of another, but I am not privy to their decisions which are rightly theirs to make.
My daughter. She is the college graduate with two degrees from Texas Tech. She is beautiful, strong of body and character, and quite intelligent. She went off for a year and a half to teach English to Korean children in their public school system. It was her dream job and she loved it and grew more self assured as she worked there.
But now she is home, living with us, working for a school principal that is not supporting her well. Part of that is because she didn't tell her she was pregnant when she hired on. And she is teaching in fifth grade which is a testing for school evaluations level.
Yes, pregnant. Living with us, with a whole room devoted to the gonna-be-here-any-day son. I can not disparage of her living with us. It's a daddy-daughter thing. I am having problems with the fact that the little girl I taught to read and play soccer and learn karate and encourage her musical talents is now about to put another life under my roof. That life will require feeding, walking, rocking, total everything care for the next few years. Somewhere in my psyche, I was ready to just settle in, tolerate the one sided discussions from my wife, go to work occasionally, mow the lawn as necessary, walk the dogs every night, And drink beer while watching football.
I realize this kid is something special. He busted a condom and got past the chemistry of "the Pill" to become a zygote and has grown ahead of schedule for the last 35+ weeks. The only problem now is the mother has insanely high blood pressure and the doctors will induce on the 29th or 30th if there is no effacement or dilation occurring before then.
My wife, when she isn't taking her medications as prescribed, is worse than I am some days. She goes off on me about things I have no control, things the daughter/new mother has to decide. And some I should be responsible for, like cleaning the house that she is unable/unwilling to do. And the new mother also wants the house clean for her baby, and while we went on vacation, she and her brother cleared out a lot of stuff.
Like Tevye, and Joe Yak, I want things to be like they were. I want to challenge my sons, but cuddle my little girl. My sons are now Men who have evolved into their own lives and families. My daughter is now abut to be a Mother herself. I am sad that I cannot go back in time. I realize deep inside somewhere that life goes forward, that life will find a way to be. That all things, all people have to grow and evolve and change. That sometimes my heart and my brain have a disconnect.
Once again, I refer back to the great philosophers: The Beatles. It was a terrible song, but the words still ring true: "Ob-la-di, Ob-la-da, Life goes on...."
No comments:
Post a Comment