"Dad, I’m a fairy princess and I’m off to slay the dragon!"
"That sounds exciting. How do you beat a dragon?"
"I don’t know. I think you need a wand. Can you make me
a wand?"
"The library might have some books on it. Want to come read them
with me?"
- - -
"Dad, I’m gay."
"Okay."
"Look, I know you’re upset about it."
"I'm not. How did you learn you were gay?"
"We were playing a game at a party. I know you’re
upset."
"I’m really not, unless, wait, tell me more about this
game."
- - -
"Dad, this is my boyfriend. His name is Vasily."
"So you're not gay anymore?"
"It’s called “bisexuality” Dad. God. Way to make a
first impression."
"Pleased to meet you, Vasily. How did you meet my girl?"
- - -
"Dad, I’m not a girl."
"You’re not?"
"I never was, and I've known it since we started using
lockers in Gym class. It’s why Mom and I don’t get along."
"Your mother thinks the world of you."
"You don’t notice anything, do you? You’re just in a
little cis-cultured bubble."
"So you’re not a girl. What would you like to be called?"
"I don’t need your labels."
- - -
"Dad, I’m pregnant."
"…"
"I know. I’m not married, and I don’t want to be
married. This is my choice."
"…"
"Dad? Are you mad?"
"No, I just forgot how to feel this way for a few
years. It’s coming back to me."
"You’re so weird."
- - -
"Dad, I have cancer."
"…Okay. Okay, how do we beat it?"
"I don’t know."
"The library might have some books on it. Want to come read them
with me?"
- - -
"Dad, I miss you."
Dialogue with our children (or parents) is always hard. You captured that beautifully - humour, sadness, anger, attitude...
ReplyDeleteGlad I stopped by!
Glad to have you, Paul, and glad you liked it. Thanks for reading!
DeleteWhat a wonderful, human father. Very touching, John. Well done.
ReplyDeleteDamn you John - my eyes are a bit sweaty. Love it.
ReplyDeleteApologies for any great expectorations.
DeleteThe last line is so sad! I can imagine why this one was tough to write but it works for me.
ReplyDeleteI know what you mean about 'short equals hard to write'. My own shortest, which races in at 99 words - took me three laborious days! This piece of yours is very clever, certainly, and it takes some re-reading to absorb the nuances. Thanks for sharing, John.
ReplyDeleteI'm very curious now. What did you pick up on the re-reads?
DeleteThat ended so sadly. Very much like a real conversation between father and child. Except I wouldn't know how to handle most of that stuff.
ReplyDeleteSimply told and really powerful. Great flash, John.
ReplyDeleteSounds like the perfect father. Wonderfully concise writing, John.
ReplyDeleteGreat job. The last line really gets you in the feels.
ReplyDeleteYou had me at "wait, tell me more about this game." I'd have probably said the same thing. He had a lot of patience, and it paid off at the end. I saw your tweets—I wasn't in the same boat, but I knew early on that I would never measure up to expectations, so I quit trying. I knew exactly what "moving the goalposts" meant first time I heard it.
ReplyDeleteI had to re-read it because I thought I was missing something, I was looking for something negative in his reactions. This was really beautiful, John. Every girl deserves a dad like that.
ReplyDeleteThe father has some lines here, and some perceived notions, that I thought might bother some people more sensitive to the trans* life. I'm glad it hasn't angered any commenters so far, since insensitivity isn't the goal of the piece. Still interested in every point of view on it, though.
DeleteVery touching piece. Wish all Dads were like that!
ReplyDeleteVery well-written. I like the format.
ReplyDeleteThanks Margit. Sometimes these little engines get feisty.
DeleteWhat a sweet piece. [And what a sweet Daddy.] Nice one.
ReplyDeleteWonderful writing John.
ReplyDeleteThis so much made me think of something I read along time ago, which went something like this:-
I am ten years old, and papa knows everything.
I am fifteen years old, maybe papa doesn't know as much as I thought.
I am twenty years old, papa knows absolutely nothing.
I am fifty years old, I wish papa was still here to ask.
That's a lovely piece, Steve. It puts me in the mind of the old bit attributed to Mark Twain: "When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years."
DeleteWhich was not the head space I was in while writing it, but it's certainly a neighboring parish.
I can well imagine Mark Twain coining a phrase like that, it says so much, and with such wit and humour.
DeletePoignant piece. My favorite part was "I just forgot how to feel this way for a few years. It's coming back to me." The ending was sad, but of course, unfortunately true.
ReplyDeleteThe Warrior Muse
I thought this was totally well written, but the repetitive nature of their conversations (and that the child never seemed to really hear a word the dad said) made me a little depressed.
ReplyDeleteWhat a super dad! As others have said, this is a very touching story John, great work.
ReplyDeleteThis was a tear-jerker for me too. I was a Daddy's girl until I became a teenager; then we fought and later ignored each other for years. It's only in the last few that we've really become close again. You've reminded me to give him a hug next time I see him. :)
ReplyDeleteOh, wow. Powerful piece. It makes me think about the important place dads have our lives in. I usually think of breaking things to mothers first, but dads are also a go-to person.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad I discovered your blog, John. This is really skilful writing.
ReplyDelete