Life With Dad

Dad and mom were a young married couple. By all accounts, they were happy but not immune to the struggles that you might expect from such a coupling. They had 4 kids by the age of 21. My brothers were born in the same year. One in January, one in December. On top of that stress, they were children of the 50’s. Mom was designated as the homemaker, dad was the wage earner. It seemed financial issues plagued the young couple for quite some time. They did their best to provide. My earliest memories have us living in a small house that they had bought. Dad worked at a factory. Long hours and from all accounts a pretty tough job. Dad insisted on a clean house. He was a traditionalist. Mom had an allowance. Dinner on the table and a clean house were a must. Dad had a penchant for drinking though to be honest I can’t remember in those days how much. Mom and dad fought often but they made up very quickly. Dads temper could never be predicted. The fight most prevalent in my mind was the house keeping fight. Dad thought his job was to instill housekeeping standards to his young wife. After a long day at work, Dad shows up to the house where mom has been taking care of 4 small children and a dog. This was in 1973 or so. That meant all the kids were under 10. To say moms plate was full would be putting it mildly. Anyway, back to the story. Dad shows up and is not happy with the house. Dishes in the sink, laundry, vacuuming, none of it seemed to be up to his standard. Then the fight began. Mom did a good job of holding her tongue. It usually took some time for her to boil over. As the argument got louder, dad would explode into a tirade of expletives. Getting louder and louder as things moved on. At some point, mom would start to fight back. As kids, we knew to stand clear for fear of distracting his attention towards one of us. Once mom engaged, dad needed more. That’s when things got broken. Usually an ashtray or a glass. To be honest, throwing glass against the wall does have an effect on the argument. Dad had to escalate. He could not lose. It was not in his DNA. During this particular argument, mom was taking a bold stance. She actually thought that using the excuse that she was taking care of 4 young children would gain some ground with dad. That was not going to be the case. He knew in his mind she had it pretty easy and that time management was her only fault. At some point dad pulled his ace card. His big ultimatum. “If you can’t clean the dishes and the kitchen, we will just throw them away!” Then he proceeded to pull trash bags out and start loading things up. Mom, having a rare moment of courage, told him to go ahead. (I am pretty sure she didn’t think he would do it) For the next little bit, we witnessed dad loading up all the contents of the kitchen. Dishes, pots, pans, silverware even the toaster. Then, still screaming at mom, he carried the bags to the curb for the trash man to pick up. Mom was stubborn. She was going to stand her ground.

The kitchen contents never came back in the house. I am not sure how the fight ended. Usually after one of the extended fights, dad would go to bed and mom would cook dinner. The next day, we got new dishes. Things seemed to be back to normal. Mom was holding dad’s hand and they seemed like a loving couple. Maybe dad planned the fight to get mom new kitchen supplies. Who knows, lol. As kids, this is how we thought spouses fight.

I am not immune to the fact that most people are born from a rich family history. The perspective that each of us have relating to our past, our family past that is, can be as varied as each person and how they experienced it. Our family is no exception. I come from a family of 4 children. 3 boys and one girl. Mom and dad were married at 17 and stayed that way until we were adults. My sister and brothers have very different views relating to the history of our family. Their opinion differs, I believe, based on the last years of the relationship they had with our dad. Our dad was a complicated man and most of this story is related to his unique approach at both life and parenting. Mom was present and sometimes a active passenger in dads clown car. I think as she gained a few years on life she figured out a good survival skill. With my dad, you had to navigate delicately in order to come out unscathed. We grew up with our fathers volatile behavior. Time after time we witnessed it. Sometimes it was the outside world that bore the brunt others it was inside our house. While we were younger, we were fortunate that he had a fair amount of outside targets. That kept his full force from being focused on us. As we grew into young adults branching out onto our own, he became obsessed with intertwining himself into every aspect of our life. Relationships, jobs, family money there was nothing off limits in his mind. The best explanation I have is that he really believed that as our father, no matter our age, he should always have the control of every decision we made. He should always benefit from what we gained. He was crazy, self absorbed and had an extraordinary god complex. I never met anyone who could shut people out completely regardless of his relationship with them. Time and time again I witnessed this coldness. In the end, it left him alone and without a lifetime of relationships to draw from as he aged and died. In any case, the stories I will write will shed some light on who is was. Ultimately, we are who we are because of or, if you will, in spite of who he was.