Friday, October 14, 2005
Father Teach Me To Play Baseball, Please.
Regarding my father. I was sad to see him show up to shul today AFTER it ended. He missed Yizkor (in memory of parents) and he didn't feel bad about it. I was heartbroken, and when I gave my pledge to the shul, in my heart I said to myself, "so that my father grows a heart."
Sitting on the bimah, when I told my dad that he missed Yizkor and that everything is over until this afternoon, he said, "I came here to see you." I wish he didn't. He broke Yom Kippur to see me. He was wearing leather shoes (not permitted) and he was dressed in business casual (cowboy) clothing, not a suit.
I was reminded of the time that I sent the counselors to keep him away from me when he drove hours to see me when I was a child in summer camp. I faked fearing that he would beat me. In reality, I didn't want to see him then, and I didn't want to see him today. I only have emotional reasons for this response.
Later when he didn't want to stay until Mincha, I asked him why he even came at all. I asked him why he prayed if he declares that he doesn't believe in this "crap." If he doesn't believe in this crap, "then his parents are dead and there is no soul or afterlife or G-d and they are just dead," I said. He said, "I keep them alive in my heart." I didn't say this, but I thought, "Yeah, just as alive as your last sexual experience with your non-Jewish girlfriend." I actually said that keeping someone alive in your heart doesn't really keep them alive, because their memory dies when you die. I then was wondering how he felt if I told him that I wouldn't say kaddish for him when he died because it is all "crap".
Either there is an afterlife, a soul, and the whole organization, or people DIE AT DEATH. There is no other reasonable alternative.
My dad was hurt when later on I told him I want a seat in between us for books. I didn't want him rubbing up against me or touching me. You know how this makes me feel. Plus, my stress level goes through the roof when I get within a foot or so from him and I completely glaze over and I zone out to avoid the anger that boils in my heart from the past.
I realized something today about why I am angry at him. He never taught me anything as a father should. Isn't that weird? Oh yes, he taught me to lie, to steal, to seduce, to cheat, to be dishonest, to ride a motorcycle, but he never taught me something of value. I was sad today about this. I wondered if he knew how I felt about him. Again, I know my statement is emotionally true, but probably factually false. I am just expressing how I feel.