I had a conversation with my father the other day.
He is a vastly interesting man with wonderful stories, but he’s always been a bit emotionally detached.
Him and I are the same in this respect. We both have problems caring, because we end up caring too much.
As far as I can remember back, he never said ‘I love you’ to any of his children. It was always about being good people and working as hard as you can, to be the best version of yourself.
As his children grew, the older man before me had finally started to tell his children he loved them, instead of hiding it behind a phrase. To be honest, I missed the phrase.
He finished an anecdote from his teaching days about doing more than what the school board thought he was even capable of doing, when a conversation silence fell between us.
I looked at him, still in the process of reminiscing and said, ‘Thank you. Thank you for never pressuring me to be a girl or to do girly things. For allowing me to help out in tasks that most would consider only boys should do. To encourage me to write, do art, get excited about technology. Thank you for treating me like a person and not a gender.’
And I learned in that moment where I got my brow furl from. A critical, confused look of someone incapable to even grasp the concept they were just presented.
My father didn’t say ‘You’re welcome.’ He didn’t say ‘of course.’
He stared into his coffee for moment and reflected ‘You work hard and you do good. And all that other stuff doesn’t matter.’
—jes
Flommist Jes exists for moments of fiery inspiration. See her inspirational byproducts at jdeprez.com. Copyright © 2016 JES DEPREZ. Illustration by flommist Danny Joe Gibson. Copyright © 2016 DJG.
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