Jogging My Mind

Hey gang!

So, I will admit, I have had writers block. I had sit down and started to write blogs about this or that but it just wasn’t me. It didn’t feel like what this blog was meant for, ya know? So, I kind of stepped back and said nothing until i had something to say, which is today.

Have you ever had that moment when you remember something from long ago? That happened to me today. I was walking through one of the many tunnels that connect the buildings where I intern at and all of the sudden I heard a long, loud repeating THUMP sound coming from the end of the hall. I stopped in my tracks because I remembered something that literally wasn’t paramount or meaningful in any way that I could think of. It was of my father.

I believe I have stated that I come from a single-mother parented household. My father was in and out of the picture much of my life. He an my mother had a falling out prior to me being born and it was always such a tumultuous relationship between them. I remember the specific moment of dissension; it was when I was 8 years old. He had told me that we were going to go to a bowling alley. I remember it was during one of his championship games and he decided to invite me, I was elated! So much so that I made my mother go out and buy me a whole new outfit. Sweater with blue and white stripes, black dress pants, my “shiny shoes” as I called them. I was decked out because, unlike most of the times his promises fell through, this would be the time when he didn’t fail me. Hours passed and I so believed that he was going to come I sat in a rocking chair next to the door. The clock read 11 when my mother finally forced me to bed. I remember laying awake most of the night and around midnight I heard them fighting in the living room. Then I heard him outside my door, yelling inaudibly. The doorknob turned and I pretended I was asleep. He said my name in his gruff voice, “Christopher” but I didn’t move. He closed the door around and I closed mine too.

Hearing this thumping  sound reminded me of one simple insignificant memory I had forgotten about. My father was a bowler but he also worked in the shipping room at the department of transportation. There he sorted things and helped bring in huge bundles of paper and gathered documents etc. I remember one time I was visiting my mother , a secretary there as well, and I ran down to see my father. I peeked in to scare him but I was in awe whenever I saw him rip, quite literally, a stack of around 1200 pages of old printer paper in half. He was Heracles! He was Superman! I remember I can in and gave him a hug which he awkwardly returned and then I tried to do the same, without result. I wanted to be big and strong like him! Then he took the paper and put it in a jogger. A jogger is a vibrating container to get all of the paper evened out. You know how when you have a stack of paper you tap it on the desk to get them all straight, same concept just bigger stack. That was the same sound. When he flipped it on it made that same fast thumping sound as the paper shook back and forth aligning. I looked up to my father that day.

It’s funny how I blocked that out and it made me smile to think about. It was before my father broke so many promises and when I thought he was indestructible. Now, 20 years later, I continued down the humid darkened hallway thinking about what happened after I closed my door. We didn’t talk for a while. I actually have no idea when his birthday is and I couldn’t tell you the last time he even gave me a card. What I do know is when I really needed him he came through. Financially usually, I was never well of as a child, but there none-the-less. He tries to be better about things and grow closer and I won’t count him out but it seems like we are two strangers trying to have something that is just not there.

He is my Father, and I appreciate him for giving me life and making sure we always have food but I always wanted a Dad.

Then I got lunch at the cafe, a chicken salad on croissant. It was delicious!
(not to get too serious, right?)



4 thoughts on “Jogging My Mind

  1. We want our parents to be superhuman and it can be rough when we realise they are flawed, just like the rest of humanity.I got a chance to make peace with my dad before he died (unexpectedly) and I will always be grateful for that. Apologies if that is all to serious:0) but your blog entry reminded me something important which I forgot these couple of days.Appreciate the reminder:0)

  2. I have a similar story- my parents divorced when I was 9, but even before that my father was never around as he worked two towns over from where we lived. It was a messy divorce, but after it I actually saw more of him, and was optimistic in getting to know him better as a person, rather than a concept. That didn’t pan out though, due to a series of disappointments (on both sides) after which I decided to just cut my losses and accept the fact we just were’t suited. I’m 17 now, and we don’t speak, its been years since we’ve had more than a five minute conversation, or one which wasn’t filled with him shouting.
    In fact, thus far Its been 9 months since I spoke to him last- though he has called me, I’ve cut off all communication. Today is his 50th birthday, and I haven’t called him.
    I think that says it all. I care about him, but to honest I have little good memories of him, and its easy to ignore whatever little presence he had in my life. I just don’t want to continue a relationship that only manages to hurt me more each time I try.


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