Surviving Your Own Life
My father and I did not share all that much,
More like passing a truck on the road
Parent’s squabbles I overheard offered me clues
And at times I caught glimpse of his load.
His freight always sealed with a padlock in back,
Any breakdowns he kept to himself,
His frustrations were private, his eye on the road,
His deliveries always top shelf!
His company’s rules left my Mom on the bench,
He in truth, perhaps liked it that way,
For it left her in charge of all family chores,
His great weakness was children at play!
Long hours of hard driving he’d learned from his dad,
His attempts to steer children went flat,
And his road map to family fuzzy at best
Little Grace for him, tit for his tat.
My mom had unknowingly married success,
So her tears rarely bought her a break,
Childhood poverty left (like a tread in the dust)
Her true voice was the sound rivers make.
Though truthfully she trucked a lot of the load
That my dad sometimes took credit for,
Supple reed that could bend so that he didn’t snap,
Her support for him not metaphor.
Her leaving him really was stuff of my dreams
Thought occurred though she might leave me too
Still I fantasied she’d find more happiness then
A true blessing from child’s point of view.
My sister experienced similar pain,
For my father’s rules always came first
But the bonds she and I formed helped both of us feel
Being male didn’t have to mean cursed.
There’s mystery still in just how we survived,
But maturity opened new doors
As we learned how to dance to songs Dad couldn’t hear,
In between and in spite of our chores.
If favor and love seemed in quite short supply
When he traveled then freedom was ours,
For when chores were done Dad’s control died on the vine
And we lived for these magical hours.
My books, rockets, music, and R/C airplanes
Did a lot to help fill in the holes,
I found mentors who lovingly showed me their world
Now my wizards of alternate roles.
My dad never once said “I’m proud of you son!”,
Didn’t want me to get a “big head,”
Good grades simply expected as if they were chore,
Consequences of failure unsaid.
Our family’s glue always duty not love,
I am sure this is how he was raised,
The worst beating I got? I forgot to mow lawn!
Mom and Sister took off, Dad was crazed.
Mom’s tears just ignored, how predictable that,
Torn to shreds was my trust in her love!
But if Mom’s love was flawed, did Dad’s even exist?
God himself dead in heaven above!
Yes, that was the day that I learned how to hate,
Dad’s needs and his goals? “Go to hell!”
It was day he lost heir, that my family died,
And the day I disowned him as well.
Though I was a boy perhaps nine years of age
My eyes only “looked out” after that,
For his business, his life, now meant nothing to me
With the world he built smelling like scat!
Child’s error that I thought my dad had no pride,
Just because it was not shown to me
In rebellion youth often believes he’s escaped
But just Grace has the power to free.
Rebellion itself means you’re likely enslaved
If you’re not him where’s freedom of choice
After all, even broken clock’s right twice a day
How can this be an authentic voice?
The fact you find value in some other path
Doesn’t mean he is totally wrong.
And the fact on occasion he grievously erred
Doesn’t mean yours is far better song!
Spent much of my adult life not being Dad
Always viewed overtime with disdain
Nothing ever should mitigate family time,
Lived in fear I might cause my wife pain.
Mom’s misery made kids think Dad was to blame
She, an artist, faced demons alone,
With Dad’s focus aloof to the needs she expressed,
And yet later she bloomed on her own.
The marriage that I feared was destined to hell
Wound up bringing our parents some grace.
For our mom, not becoming a business savant,
Saw her art bring a smile to Dad’s face.
Deciding to search for new truth on my own
College Science seemed like my best bet.
An approach to what’s right with no feelings involved,
As I dreamed of my lost safety net.
On joining the Peace Corps in college third year
I felt sure I’d meet Damocles sword,
But Dad gave not a caution and when I returned
My two-year diversion ignored.
When Vietnam War came I tested 1-Y
For I’d put my right hand through glass door,
When I finished my Masters joined Peace Corps again,
Seemed I’d whetted an urge to explore.
My life’s greatest irony came when Dad died
Turned out my life was what he had dreamed,
At his grave his best friend shared his pride in his son,
With one word his existence redeemed.
My marriages, job paths, won’t tell you much more,
Though my upbringing brought gain and loss,
I’ve found pain a good teacher and ditto mistake,
Life works best when “buck stops with the boss!”
For me Science showed itself lacking in warmth
And relationships came to the fore,
Now the give and take found in emotional life
Is my joy every morning and more!
Brian Johnston
September 4, 2016
Copyright © Brian Johnston | Year Posted 2016
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