In Repair

When I was in the French grad program at Ohio University, my good friend, Amy, loved and listened to John Mayer a lot. She went to his concerts and was a vocal fan. Aside from “Your Body is a Wonderland” (because who wouldn’t want a troubadour with a guitar serenading that?!?!), I really didn’t get the appeal. Until now. I can fully admit I am embracing John Mayer fandom. His music, in this particular season of my life is hitting hard and I love it.

I didn’t write or post anything about Father’s  Day this year. Instead, I went a quieter more somber route. I have been mulling things over, particularly this song https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=rZLbUIa7exE&pp=ygUsZmF0aGVycyBiZSBnb29kIHRvIHlvdXIgZGF1Z2h0ZXJzIGpvaG4gbWF5ZXI%3D as it relates to my dad and me. You see, my dad was magic—straight charisma, charm, and humor. To bask in his sunlight was everything. But he could turn it off like a switch, perhaps as a defense mechanism for his own tender heart and insecurities. His humor danced a razor’s edge of warm teasing to mocking cudgel. In my 20s, more than once or twice, I found myself drawn to men who had similar tendencies and to be near that magic, that sunlight was enough, for a while, enough to tolerate poor behavior, enough to offer far more than I received. These are easy patterns for me to fall into because they’re so familiar.

Remarkably, however, I did not marry a man like my father. Oh sure, Bryan was charming and charismatic, but I never had the fear of him turning that off. And instead of just shining his light, he sought mine and encouraged me in every way he knew to make my light shine brighter. As the lyrics go, “daughters will love like you do.” I see the way Mary loves her friends, family, work, community in like manner to her dad.

I’m not trying to be hurtful to my dad’s memory. He had moments of great introspection and growth. He worked very hard to be a better dad than his own father and succeeded. And he could say I am sorry and did. Nevertheless, the legacy of father-daughter relationships and their effects echo in the hall. I think wanting to be close to that light and feel warmed by it because it feels good is why I am drawn to larger-than-life, charismatic men and have had a history of subsuming my own interests and pride just to be near the light. It is so good to reflect on that and to remember how Bryan sought my light. I think the ending of this song brings those ideas to bear in a really beautiful way. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=7VBex8zbDRs&pp=ygUSam9obiBtYXllciBncmF2aXR5

Finally, when I told my good friend, Amy about my John Mayer late-bloomer discovery, she encouraged me to listen to “In Repair” suggesting it might be an anthem for where I’m at. If you can, go find the lyrics. They’re absolutely spot on. I’m in repair from the consequences of grief and bereavement. I’m in repair in many other ways. My friend, N, calls it “doing the work.” It’s important to recognize what has brought us to this point, extend grace, but acknowledge one’s own responsibility to grow, change, and heal. I am “In Repair” and I’m just fine with that. https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=Bq8SBDv7Wn4&pp=ygUUaW4gcmVwYWlyIGpvaG4gbWF5ZXI%3D

Tulips

2018 was a very full, busy, momentous year. Bryan, Mary, and I went to Hawaii in the winter. Bryan and I met up with friends in Paris in late Spring and then visited my French host family just outside of Tours. I also made the heavy decision to close my little boutique gift shop, Shop Eleven. And in the fall, my dad, with whom I’d been estranged for a few years reached out to ask me to come see him in Bend, Oregon, which I did without hesitation.

My Daddy loved his babies, me included, but I think our transitions to adulthood and independence were hard on him in every case and it manifested in not always the most pleasant outcomes (I like frosted over euphemisms, too, Mom). A big source of the heartache was my relationship with Bryan. I had chosen a much older man. And in early days, Bryan had a conflicting schedule and couldn’t meet with my Dad when he’d come out from Ohio to visit. Bryan thought there would be ample opportunity and Dad felt it was a snub. Lack of communication and hurt feelings all around grew and grew. And Dad often leaned on anger, the secondary emotion, when hurt was the primary one. With a lot of encouragement from others, Dad ended up calling me to help resolve what had been way too long of a time apart. It was a good visit. It was a healing visit. I’m so thankful to every person who helped make that possible. You know who you are…

At the end of that weekend, driving back to Walla Walla from Bend in our old Camry, I decided to make a pit stop at the Bi-Mart in Redmond. What should I see when I stopped? All kinds of bulbs for sale–daffodils and tulips primarily caught my attention. I felt the strongest compulsion to buy tons and so I did. Bringing home a full heart and a full car.

Bryan, delighted by the visit and gracious in my fall planting exuberance helped me plant all those bulbs. The squirrels have gotten most of the daffodils, but the tulips have been a source of joy and healing ever since.

The following spring, April 4, 2019, my daddy passed away. And the tulips were in full bloom. Every anniversary of that date afterward, I think of that fall 2018 visit and what it has meant to my heart and my healing and that the tulips come just when I need them most.