Omission ~ Remission
What follows is a free flow of thoughts – and not very cheerful, at that – looking back more than fifty years. It’s not something I’ve ever written about, for myself. I thought it was time. I learned a lot from my father, and we had a good relationship, but this is about letting him down, which was a lesson in itself. Those who are familiar with my writing will know that it’s a long piece, for me. To the right is a distillation, of sorts – again, not very cheerful.
Omission
Trying to be involved, but always
self-conscious. That was me, in school.
Except as an athlete, which wasn’t me, at all.
Until I was told I was fast enough
to run track. So, a ninth grader walked
to the high school every afternoon.
When an athlete’s dinner was held
at the junior high, I was clueless.
I wasn’t an athlete. But, yes, I was.
At the last minute, I attended,
only to find out it was a father-son event.
How could I tell my father?
I didn’t have to. Two days later,
my mother said, “Dad was at the bank
for the car loan. The president said
he saw you at the father-son dinner,
and he was sorry Dad couldn’t be there.”
Flash forward three years.
I remember her words like it was yesterday,
“You know, Dad went to your track meet
and you never acknowledged him.”
The one time he left work early
to see me run, and I didn’t see the one face
I’d always wanted to see there.
Too self-conscious, I would stay
away from the bleachers,
except to talk to my girlfriend.
It had to look like I was ignoring him.
Not a word was said afterward, but I knew.
He was disappointed. I would have been.
Did I feel as bad about it as he did?
It sure felt like it. It took me another week
to tell him I never saw him at the meet.
And he never went again.
Remission of Self
Class within class
Self-conscious
Wanting to be unseen
Self-consciou
Student or jock
Self-conscio
Extreme apprehension
Self-consci
Inattentiveness
Self-consc
A father’s expectations
Self-cons
Wanting to be seen
Self-con
Guilt by omission
Self-co
Unmet expectations
Self-c
Too little, too late
Self
Disappointment
Sel
Reconciliation
Se
Acceptance
S
Remission
Self
Ken Gierke
Linked to Write me some treats! from Lillian, for Open Link Night at dVerse.
I think that type of disappointment will remain as a thorn that never really heals.
LikeLiked by 1 person
We got past it, but you’re right. Even though he’s been gone more than 25 years, it hurts to think that he was hurt in that way.
Thank you, Björn.
LikeLike
You have touched the truth. It is never easy. But your words have reached deep into my own heart, and reminded me of myself, both son and father. In two weeks my one child is marrying in Brooklyn. I will be there, God willing and the creek don’t rise. Thank you for reminding me of the truth. We all live. We all love. We all suffer. We all rejoyce. My plane flies over Missouri one way Monday morning, and the way back the next Monday night. I shall think of you and B.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Daniel. I’ll be looking up, watching for your passing. Have the pilot tip a wing. 😉
LikeLike
Life is like a novel, and we don’t always get to participate in the writing. We speak of “God’s will”, kismet, karma…interesting to make this a list poem.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Glenn. Sometimes a poem will write itself. The second half, here, seemed to.
LikeLike
Oh the memories we keep simmering inside our selves, long after our parents are gone. As a parent of children who now have their own children, I can honestly say that we as parents carry memories too, of times we wish we did not have or things we wished we did in our dynamics with our children. Runs both ways.
And I do think that writing poetry or short stories or any form….is a way of bringing those feelings to the forefront and acknowledging them…..even many years after the fact.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Lillian. Writing as acknowledging – Yes. I may not have recognized it at the time, much of my writing in the nineties served as a sort of therapy. That sort of writing can be done at any time, of course, but writing about something like this now is a reminder that we’re always learning and able to apply different perspectives gained from those lessons.
LikeLike
I don’t know if its a treat, more like a sour taste, but maybe writing it down makes it taste a little sweeter. Wounds run deep, exposing them is bittersweet. Beginning of a healing?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. There never was a rift between us, and the healing over the slight occurred long, long ago. My father died when he was sixty. I cherish any memory of him, and now that I’m well past that age myself, these thoughts come to me more often. I’d say the second half of this is the process I went through at the time all of this happened.
LikeLike
Very moving description. Best wishes.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Frank. Life is about lessons.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Like Lillian said, whether they are memories of you as a child and your parent or memories of you as a parent and your child, some are what could be called kryptonite. They don’t go away and they can hurt us. I think it is ok to revisit those memories as long as they need to be revisited, but at some point, at least consideration of forgiveness needs to take place. What is so often bypassed when it comes to forgiveness is forgiveness of one’s own self. It doesn’t serve to excuse the behavior but it does allow the burden to be set aside. Now, to say, none of what you describe was intentional!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Lisa. I will say that I learned from the circumstances and effect, being more open and receptive to offers and suggestions from him. I was thankful to have him as my father.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Pity there no do-overs once we’ve gained some life experience! The role of today’s fathers has changed a great deal …. and for the better.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. Hopefully our own experience in our youth helps us understand our children, but the mind of any child is likely to be an alien landscape to the parent.
LikeLike
Great way to tell a story – left column alone is powerful, concise, relevant for reflecting on my own youth (under parents/school influence). Then the right column – wow – that is a snapshot of maturing, bit by bit becoming “self” and able to claim it.
This brings home the nature of child vs adult … what is and is not discussed … a self-conscious child in particular avoids serious discussion about almost everything. And parents are so busy with other matters, if the child doesn’t inquire, the topic probably doesn’t come up. I’m referring to my parents and also to the years I was single mom to two (I call those my referee years). My kids are now in their 40s and the three of us have become essentially friends, able to discuss all manner of things. Sometimes they share stories of things they hid from me at the time … usually I’m glad I didn’t know at the time!
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂 Thank you, Jazz! I did learn a lot from my father, but he died at 60, and I wish I had asked more about his life before marriage at 19. I’d already been around for 40 years when he died, and while we had plenty of conversations, I think that by that point we both thought I knew all there was to know about his childhood. I was able to understand his values were formed by an early childhood in the Depression, his mother’s death when he was 13 and the need to leave school then to work beside his father, but that understanding was just coming as he started telling me stories in his last year. While I did learn, having those background details would have added more insight.
LikeLiked by 1 person
If my parents were alive, I’d be an inquisitive pest! The older I get, the more interested I get in how they became who they were as my parents. My father died at 58 (I was still in high school). Mother was willing to talk after I became a mother. But we lived in different towns. She died in 1990 (at 72) with so many inquiries never raised, never answered.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Moving poem. Thanks for sharing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. 🙂
LikeLike
A wonderful sad story Glenn. I love how you wove this drawing us in to the final sad ending.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Dwight. I think of this a understanding through hindsight.
LikeLike
Heartbreaking
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, but a lesson. Thank you.
LikeLike
I can so relate to the self consciousness that was most debilitating to me as a child. The fact that your father never returned to another of your athletic events because he felt unacknowledged says a lot about his own burdens of becoming self actualized. So much is unsaid between ourselves and our loved ones that can create much pain and misunderstandings. I suppose it is then left to us to work at letting go of that pain that doesn’t serve us in any way. Thanks for sharing your intimate feelings.
Gayle ~
LikeLiked by 1 person
As the sole breadwinner in a blue-collar family, it was nearly impossible for him to leave work, and I understand that and how his presence was that much more special. We moved on and had a very good relationship.
LikeLike
Well, that certainly does shed some understanding to the situation. I’m very happy to hear that you and your Dad had a good relationship. You were very fortunate in that respect.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Life is full of missed connections. Adolescents are generally clueless about their parents, and parents often don’t know how to communicate their desires. Love is not easy from either side. You’ve captured all that beautifully. (K)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Kerfe. The manual for growing up has gone through so many revisions that it has never made it to the publisher.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s an understatement!
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is so painful and a perfect example of the child having to be the adult.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It definitely was a quick lesson. Thank you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Welcome!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Interesting.
LikeLiked by 1 person
And such is life.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes I remember like yesterday when in hospital telling my Dad I didn’t want him I wanted Mum. I’ll always remember that look, even though we sorted it later.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Some memories remain frozen in our minds.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yikes! The unintended consequence of not paying attention, and of making assumptions – the curse of adolescence. This is an interesting poem. I often think the sins of omission are worse than the ones of commision. I think it would be a great poem minus, if you don’t mind my saying so, the remission column, to share with teenagers. I would suggest giving it to them with just the omission because of the attention span thing – the story by itself is so poignant and real to the time and space in which your experience derived I think kids would really relate. Do you know a Jr. High or High school English teacher?
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m retired, so my connection to teachers is well in the past. Thank you for your thoughts.
LikeLike
A powerful and painful account. It gave me pause about my own relationships with parents. Where are the tissues? 😞
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you. Sometimes, we learn the hard way.
LikeLiked by 1 person
how’s that line go? father’s let down sons. and sons let down fathers. or something.
LikeLike
Ken, if it’s any comfort, I think most of us have regrets about our relationships (and such incidents) with our parents when we’re teenagers. At least I certainly do! Glad you were able to talk about it all in later years.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Betty. I’m grateful for all I learned from him.
LikeLike
It’s amazing how we can be transported back to a time and literally feel the feelings as if they were happening in this moment. I want you to know that I felt your feelings…and I felt your dad’s feelings too. Great writing!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Lorrie. The many, many years make it easier to be objective, yet still understand the reactions of both sides.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I get it 🌝
Hope you enJOY the weekend!
LikeLiked by 1 person