My father is a romantic. However, it is not immediately obvious. He grew up taking apart anything and everything mechanical. He craves the thrill of going fast whether in a car or motorcycle, on a boat, or being launched skyward in his ultralight plane. Not to mention the countless hours in the desert hoping to make it to the finish line in one piece, as the driver of a dune buggy, off-road racing team.
A heart-shaped wreath with a bird’s nest tucked inside.
In retirement, my father keeps a consistent routine of walking the dog which includes multiple conversations with neighbors, his daily work out at the gym again chatting with his exercise buddies, and working on projects around the house. His fascination for figuring out how things work remains intact. Before any purchase, big or small, there is the prerequisite research phase. It is important to consider the cost of something, of course but there are other factors too, like reliability and reviews from actual users. His favorite magazines used to be Scientific American, Popular Mechanics, and Consumer Reports before the internet became an endless source of information for his queries.
How then, did I reach this conclusion that my dad is a romantic? A man who lives very comfortably in the physical world of mechanics, investigation, and structure. The simple answer is by paying attention to the stories of his life that he has chosen to share with me. In the act of selecting what we reveal, there is an unveiling of our lives and what matters most to us steps onto center stage.
As an early draftee in the war with Vietnam, my father was given a desk job and a fair amount of freedom. He spent time in the city and fell in love. The woman had a son from a previous relationship who was often assumed to be my father’s child. When his two tours were done, many attempts were made to continue the relationship. His voice is soft and light when he talks about this woman and her son, sharing an apartment, swimming along the beautiful coastline. I am there with him as he describes what feels like a fairytale. A fairytale that he would have gladly made his life. The reality of the war made that impossible.
When my father found out that my mom was pregnant with me, he proposed. They met as East Coast transplants at a party in Hollywood. I imagine them attracted by their shared loneliness and homesickness. The details are vague as to how long they dated or if they ever considered themselves to be going steady. My dad has told me that he was excited to be a father. The right answer to give your adult daughter who discovered her conception preceded the proposal and wedding. He was devastated when after a few short years of marriage my mom asked for a divorce. I am filling in the blanks a bit as this is not a story my father shared with me in great detail.
His recent marriage, a destination wedding in Italy to a woman who has been his girlfriend for over two decades may be his fairytale ending after all. The man who has always been fascinated by figuring out how things work, may have just figured out one of the most illusive mechanisms. Romantic love.
