#372

I let Megan have ice cream for breakfast. I am a shitty father. But it's Saturday, and she's helping me paint. Although that feels like another favor and acquiescence; she was begging for a brush. I decided she would be helpful and committed and not too messy. And she has been. She didn't quit the minute it became more work than novel fun. We're a good team. Of course, we aren't on scaffolds doing the Sistine Chapel; we're doing the crappy, '70s-style-wood-paneled stairwell down to our basement. We're dripping onto the stairs, but we'll paint those too. The blunder to avoid is stepping on the drops and tracking them onto carpet. So far, we haven't ruined anything. Life is good. Though I wonder: Should I hold myself to a higher standard – in painting, parenting, and everything else – than 'just don't ruin anything?' That's a low bar. But not always an easy one.

I am halfway through a book called The Glass Castle. Speaking of fathering and ruining kids – or sadly, painfully strengthening them – it's quite a story. So far. I'm inclined to say I have some of the good qualities of the dad in the book (creativity, enthusiasm, and – like us all I assume – a powerful love for his children) without suffering his extreme flaws (alcoholism, 'visits to the Green Lantern,' and a powerful restlessness that precludes any familial stability). And yet, how can I compare one father to another? I would say less, and not more, is agreed upon and cut-and-dried when it comes to best practices for fathers. And I'd say it's too complex for clear, indisputable conclusions when comparing this father to that one, or this culture to that one, or this philosophy to that one. And certainly we can't give all the credit (for the development of remarkable people) to the parents of those people, and none to the individuals themselves... just as we can't give anyone all of the blame. How's that for a parental disclaimer? Ha! When I think of incredible people, I certainly think their upbringing plays a part, but so does their very own heart and soul and energy and resilience and work ethic and intellect and convictions and love and optimism and relationships and kindness and so on and so forth.

Michael is off to homecoming this weekend. The game, the dance, the pre- and post-parties, the fun, the drama, etcetera etcetera. Any questions I ask about any of it will get a one-word answer. 'Good.' 'Alright.' 'Okay.' 'Fine.' Then based on his tone and body language (also, if needed, hearsay, comments from other parents, and whatever his talkative friends let slip) I'll learn a little more and decide how much to pry. I just hope he has a blast. A safe and healthy one. That's all. These should be good times, even if imperfect.

My days of writing about my son should probably end. But that's sad and I don't want it to end, and I'm selfish when it comes to my cathartic habit here, so maybe I'll keep at it, confusingly, vaguely, lovingly, with a kind of false distance to allow for awkward deflection or disavowal if necessary.

"My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness."
     — Dalai Lama

My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness. Dalai Lama
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/d/dalailama108820.html

My religion is very simple. My religion is kindness. Dalai Lama
Read more at: https://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/quotes/d/dalailama108820.htm