What goes up must do something or other
As it was Father’s Day on Sunday I have been thinking about my father. I think that the last time we spoke was a few months before Christmas. I told him some story about how I thought I was going to be out of the country for Christmas when in reality I just had no desire to drive out to his house where his wife and her family would be celebrating in their usual fashion.
People always think that a statement like that means I do not like the stepfamily. I do like them, I have always had a great time with them and they are the ones who really taught me how to drink. They showed me that a clear odorless liquid was always a better choice over beer, champagne trumps wine, and always use the bootleg moonshine Rum in the eggnog.
It’s the father and stepmother of whom I am not so fond. I mean I think they use to try, but I think that may just be the hazy memory of a child. Now I know that my sister, brother and I are so not considered part of the family. It’s the little things. My father was getting a PhD from a university and the invitation to the celebratory party was sent a month before (the first I even knew about it) and to my sister’s house (I have been living at my address for almost a year).
The thing about my father is that he would never consider or understand the notion that he has been a less than perfect example of fatherhood. I think he believes that he has done everything spot on and that he should be congratulated for the wonderful children that he raised. Never mind the fact that there was a six-year period where I never saw him. Never mind the fact that getting child support out of him was a hassle. Never mind that he still asks me if I have reached 21 years old yet. Never mind that he showed up late to my sister’s wedding (which was held two hours from where we live in Boston and twenty minutes from his house). Never mind any of that.
What really frames my father’s persona is that he does not believe in gravity. Yeah, I know. Right, who does not believe in gravity? A man getting a PhD cannot not believe in gravity. Well, my father argues, and stay with me here, that no one ever proved it to him. In school a teacher read about it in a book and told the students. The teacher did not discovery gravity, a white man did. I think that he feels it is his duty as a Puerto Rican man to dispute any theory presented by “the white man”. My father has refused to acknowledge the reality that we do not float off into space, that the earth is not rushing up to meet us when we fall, as well as posits that there may be some sort of magnet system that hold people to the ground and please do not get him started on Australia (he cannot fathom how they stay on the Earth, after all they are upside down).
Knowing all this, it is hard to really fault him for being a less than perfect father. He clearly has other issues going on in his life. I cannot imagine what he thinks about evolution and cellular cloning.