to teach bones
to disappear,
to teach eyes
to close" (1)
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| "It is difficult to teach bones to disappear, to teach eyes to close" (1) |
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| My father has a good reputation. Everyone in town knows him. Someone once told me how great he was, and that I must have been so lucky to have him as a father. I felt I would have been luckier had he been there. He is a distant man. He has to be. I have rarely seen him lose his temper, but when he does, it�s terrible. I feel that I am betraying him whenever I reveal the details. His reputation is pretty accurate. I don�t want to damage that. He once told me that I don�t own my life. I was living in an oppressive environment, a Nazi-run high school and a home where I felt I was under secret surveillance, not knowing what my parents said about me behind doors. He doesn�t understand adolescence because he never had one. Female adolescence is even more foreign to him. My father grew up poor on a farm. Through hard work, he has become financially successful. I understand now that he did it for his family, to give us what he never had, and that he is charitable to our impoverished community. I understand now that he does care, he just keeps his thoughts private. I suppose that if my situation was reversed, that if my father was home but we had no money, I may have been the same way. The situation is not reversed. I keep looking for my father in other men, looking for (I guess) lost time. | ||||