In My Father's Arms

When I was poring through photos, looking for appropriate pictures to use on the CD cover for my Dad's Father's Day gift, I noticed that most of the photos of just the two of us involved a hug or his arm around me.

We're touchy people. I find his affection especially amazing since his mother died when he was very young and his father was a cold man, incapable of showing affection.

I spent several hours with my Dad yesterday. We're still touchy. We hug. We pat each other's arms or knees. We still link arms. I don't think we've ever gone through a conversation without the words, "I love you." Even when he doesn't agree with my decisions or I get on his nerves, he's on my side. Or, at least there to pick up the pieces.

No offense to the husband, my mother or the many other people who hug me. But, I breathe a little better in my father's arms.

A Motherless Boy

Andrew Speaker is the man who made the news because he has a drug-resistant strain of tuberculosis (TB.) Ignoring doctor's orders, he jetted out and in of the U.S., possibly exposing hundreds of people to his illness. He's in the doghouse with the federal government and the CDC.

I know a little bit about TB. My fraternal grandmother died from it, after spending years in a sanitarium. I'm not sure that my father has any true memories of his mother, other than visiting her in "the place." He was shuffled around. His two older sisters doted on him.

He eventually had a stepmother. You remember the saying we were all taught as children -- If you can't say something nice, say nothing at all. I have nothing to say.

I'm sure his father loved his children, in his own way. Unfortunately, he was cold and devoid of any true emotion. He let his wife call the shots. Even in his later years, he couldn't show affection.

I'm trying to figure out how this motherless boy grew into a such a compassionate parent and considerate human being.

I can't identify with losing a mother at a young age. I can't imagine having no role models. I've never gone a day in my life without someone telling me that they loved me.

Being loved should not be a secret. I rarely get off the phone or sign off an email to friends and family without telling them I love them. In person, I hug a lot. Even if I'm cranky, I tell the husband that I love him every day.

I'm pretty sure I learned this from my father.