It was one year ago today, and nearly to the hour Top Comments gets posted, that my father died. Since I am Jewish (although atheist in belief), we had the unveiling today. For those that don't know, we Jews wait a year before revealing the stone marker (head or foot depending on how the plots are set). Most families do another religious service at the grave site. Our family usually forgoes the service and rabbi and just gathers with a few family members and/or close friends. While the funereal had over 100 in attendance, today we had 15.
This diary is just one more step for me in the healing process.
Follow me below the fold for some cathartic healing.
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Please come in. You're invited to make yourself at home! Join us beneath the doodle...
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My father and I had what could easily be called a tumultuous relationship. At a young age, I was diagnosed with a rare genetic illness. It was something he refused to accept for years. Rarely was anything I did well enough for him and on occasion was too good for him. I just couldn't win. I never loved him like many of the TV show kids loved their dads, and there were many days where I barely even liked him.
He pushed me into sports which I hated. I obliged him by becoming a bowler, the one sport I could play fairly well due to its lack of physicality. I did play soccer one year in Jr high. Why I was allowed on the team, I'll never know. It was, however, one of the worst experiences of my life and set up me being depressed for the next few years as I navigated my way through Jr and Sr high and the beginning of college.
I grew up wanting to do comedy or pursue theatre. I spent much of my spare money going to movies, comedy clubs and Broadway. Every time I went I got berated for wasting my money on meaningless drivel. This from a compulsive horse gambler was nothing short of ironic in my mind.
In school, I gravitated towards math and science. This pleased my science teacher father much. I loved chemistry and biology. My father's favorite subject was always chemistry and it was one of the few things we could bond over. When people would ask me what I wanted to do growing up, I would usually say be a marine biologist since I knew what I would say would always find its way back to him. It was sort of true as I loved going to aquariums and Sea World. If I hadn't loved performing so much I might have actually pursued that line of work.
When it came time to look for colleges, the focus remained on marine science, but I tried to make sure any college I looked at had a good theatre program in case I decided to change majors. I ended up going to a small liberal arts college in the South. The summer before my freshman year, I got invited to their Honors orientation. While I had been away from home by myself many times (sleep-away camp and such), this was the first time I was alone and in position to make major life decisions without any interference. One of the benefits of being accepted into the Honors program was that we got priority registration over the rest of the school. Realizing there was no one there to interfere in my decisions, I switched my major to theatre. I used a lame excuse for why I changed my major on the spur of the moment. Due to my AP scores, I didn't need any core science classes before signing up for marine science classes. But because I saved choosing my science class for last, I had already filled all the times that the 200 level marine science classes were being offered. When I got home and told everyone what I had done, my father was furious. Unfortunately there was nothing he could about as I was finally free of his influence.
We didn't talk much during the time I was in college. It wasn't until after college when I had to move home due to lack of employment & money that we started to repair our relationship. For a long time, it stayed strained at least until he starting having medical issues. In a complete 180, he went from not wanting anything to do with my medical stuff to wanting to be involved in every decision. On my end, this was very hard to digest. He would get visibly upset when I wouldn't tell him what was happening, a marked change from when he would yell at me for getting sick when I was younger. I never understood why he thought I had control over colds, bronchitis and pneumonia. He was a science expert after all. I realize it was probably due to a lack of control. He was a controlling person and it frustrated him to be able to do anything to keep me well as a kid. And now that we weren't letting him on the myriad of problems I was developing and the steps we were taking to mitigate or fix them must have made it worse especially since he was starting to develop his own medical problems.
Throughout my entire life there was one thing we always bonded over: hockey. My father was a sports lover; he watched almost any sporting event. Still by far his two favorite sports were baseball and hockey. To tell the truth, I don't know which was #1 for him. He was a hockey fan from as far back as he could remember back when few Americans cared much about the sport. Members of his family had season tickets to the Rangers from before he was born. He spent many nights at the Garden on 8th and 49th street before it moved to its present location. He saw some of the greatest hockey players ever to play the game. Because the seats were in front of the penalty box (it was located in the stands at that time), he got to meet many of the players. Because many of them only spoke French, he could only understand some of them. Still it must have been so cool for a kid to be able to be that close to the superstars of his day.
My father told me many stories about the league and its players from the years before I could follow the sport, including the fact that he had attended the famous Jacques Plante mask game in 1959. I heard about how teams would be separated by the dining cars of the trains they were traveling on together to avoid the fights that would likely break out had the two teams been near each other. He also told me that players were given Pullman car berths based on the number of their sweater (jersey for you non-aficionados) which was why Gordie Howe switched from 17 to 9 since 9 offered a better berth. I could go on and on about all the cool tidbits he told me, but I will just leave you with one more: for a long time, teams did not dress back up goalies, they were provided for by the league which was what led to the famous game mentioned above.
My father told me many stories about baseball including his favorite story about Bobby Thomson's "Shot Heard 'Round the World" of his beloved New York Giants, but hockey was our sport. I loved the fast-paced action and the fact that it wasn't and isn't mainstream. It made it feel like it was our own little secret society.
Today marks the opening of free agency for the NHL. It usually occurs on Canada Day (July 1), but this year it was pushed back due to the lockout. To me, it's fitting that it happened today. The turning of the page from one season to another is a perfect metaphor for my continuing journey of moving forward from my father's death. I know I will never forget all the things that happened, but like the teams signing some new players and keeping some old, things will always change. That's a good thing because life shouldn't stand still.
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TOP COMMENTS
July 5, 2013
Thanks to tonight's Top Comments contributors! Let us hear from YOU
when you find that proficient comment.
From a gilas girl:
I'd like to submit this comment from glb3 that was one of many gems in Hunter's diary about Brooks Reaction Syndrome (patent pending).
From Land of Enchantment:
It's a good thing to share laughs. journeyman adds some guffaws to an already outrageous story.
Tonight's flagged comments:
Corvo flagged this comment by greenbell on Obama being more secretive than Bush. While I disagree with it, I feel it's worth including because it is a discussion worth having.
karmsy flagged this comment by SueM1121 in Heavy Mettle's diary "'Full Figured' Woman Kicked Out of Missouri Swimming Pool For Wearing Bikini"
greenbell, who has a comment in tonight's list, flagged this brilliant comment by johnva regarding committing civil disobedience against secret laws.
From moi:
This hilarious debate started by an innocent question put forth by Eric Stetson. Poor Oregonians.
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TOP PHOTOS
Independence Day, 2013
Enjoy jotter's wonderful PictureQuilt™ below. Just click on the picture and it will magically take you to the comment that features that photo. Have fun, Kossacks!
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