One big delight is my youngest spending the entire weekend with me, while her brothers are mostly otherwise occupied. We rented a movie she likes and watched it together last night; today she helped me at the grocery store identify and purchase a bunch of foods all three like -- I'm such a smarter shopper when she's along.
Late this afternoon, we went to her favorite shoe shop and got some black Converse high tops, and a new set of colorful socks. She loves to mix and match them, as opposed to wearing them in matching pairs.
Tonight, we'll have a pasta dinner she located at the store, and relax. She's also planning to bake for her brothers a breakfast treat from a mix she also found at the store.
Domestic moments like this are as good as it gets for a father. I've always enjoyed shopping with my daughters. Clothes with my oldest daughter; music with my middle daughter; and pretty much everything with my youngest.
Being the father of girls has taught me a lot and helped shape many of my perspectives about society. I've become an even bigger advocate of equal opportunities than I already was, as an early supporter of the women's rights movements that exploded in the '60s.
It always was a natural for me, due to the influence of my mother and three sisters, and the absence of any brothers in my childhood. From the start, I could empathize with the lives of girls, and later, women.
Many, many subtleties escaped me, however, because I'm a typical man in many ways. I like sports and business and technology and all the usual guy things. I'm not any good at fashion, shopping, cooking, cleaning, socializing, or true emotional intimacy.
I wish I were good at intimacy. I can write about it, I can feel it, and I can describe the pain of losing it, but a quick glance at my relational history shows I'm no good at creating and maintaining it.
This is probably my greatest failure and sadness in life. Outside of my family, I've forged dozens of friendships but few that really last or could be called intimate.
Not that I haven't had the opportunity.
***
News came today, sad news, about the death of a former Rolling Stone colleague and friend. She died from brain cancer.
***
Since we all end up the same way, as we age there are a couple things about death that change for us. First, its inevitability. Young people cannot perceive that, fully. Second, the importance of really being present and alive while we are still here. Time passes all too quickly. Third, the importance of telling each other how much we love one another before that can no longer be heard. Don't leave your feelings unstated.
***
Actually, a few old friends have reaffirmed their love for me lately, and I appreciate that. I hope I've done a reasonable job of returning the favor, but I know I've been self-centered this year.
Although there is no excuse for this, living alone, two audits, and other challenges, plus age have all been pushing me toward an awful fate -- isolating myself from others.
This is the one fate that I must avoid, at all costs.
Connecting is radical and saves our lives, and makes them meaningful. Isolating will kill us prematurely.
Writers write alone. We have to be alone to write. At least in a room with enough silence to think.
But outside of that room there must be others who care about us if we are not to succumb to the awful disease of isolation.
Thankfully, tonight, I have my young daughter, just a door away.
-30-
No comments:
Post a Comment