June 30, 2010

When large things loom


Us
Originally uploaded by Citizen Rob
When large things loom, it's the small things that save.

Someone recently told me that for all my efforts on Schuyler's behalf, the reality is that I'm the one who depends on her. My happiness, my sense of personal worth, my very identity as a person is dependent on Schuyler and her own success, not just in school but in life.

And I suspect that's absolutely true. Well, I'll go so far as to say that of course it's true. And I also suspect it's something like a universal truth. I imagine 90% of the parents who just read that said to themselves, "Well yeah, no shit."

For parents, that emotional dependency makes life... complicated. There's a fear that grows, for example, out of the risk of loss, or of failure. There are the choices not made, or at least not made easily, because risking your own happiness is one thing, but it's never really just about yourself, is it? And who can ever understand the relationship you have, not just with your child but also with your fear? It becomes like another family member. Or perhaps one more monster.

But there's a flip side to that relationship, that dependency. There's a kind of comfort that comes from the innocence of a child. Their lives aren't easy, but they are pretty simple. They focus like we do, on some level, but that focus comes in the service of a child's world and the basic elements that drive it. It's an intoxicating place to visit.

If you've been following my more recent entries, you've probably noticed a certain level of anxiety in my writing, and in my life. It's been a particularly rough week, lots of fear of loss and anxiety over the future.

But I have a world I can visit, one that's not so full of fear and loss and sadness and regret. It's the same world that Schuyler lived in all by herself for all those years, and its a world that she now shares with me, happily and without guile. Tomorrow, it'll include a trip to Chick-fil-A (which she's been asking about all week) and an early showing of The Last Airbender, which she's wanted to see ever since I first showed her that they were making a movie out of her favorite tv show. That world is going to include a weekend full of fireworks and baseball.

And tonight, as she got ready for bed, that world revolved around a few games of Hello Kitty dominoes, played by a very fluid set of rules known only to Schuyler. I don't know if she knew how much I needed that, but I'm grateful to her for it all the same.

When Schuyler was younger, even before she had much in the way of communication tools, she always seemed to sense when I was running out of whatever that stuff is that keeps you going through the deep water. When I was sad, I could always count on a tiny hand reaching out to me, and a wordless little girl from another world putting that hand on mine.

And tonight, it was Hello Kitty dominoes. Schuyler doesn't understand the large things that loom over her broken father any more than he does. But somehow I think that on some level, she understands better than any person in this world how the small things might just save her dumb lost daddy.

Sometimes, often even, I feel disposable. I think maybe I am. But Schuyler believes differently, and while I think she might be wrong, I'm going to go with her instincts on this for a little while longer.

If nothing else, I'd like to figure out her rules to Hello Kitty dominoes.

12 comments:

Elizabeth said...

Beautiful -- this brings up so many things for me that I wish I could relate regarding my relationship with my daughter. I thank you for reminding me of them --

Candace said...

Complicated is the word of the day! Trying to explain those feelings and FEARS is just about impossible for me. It's nice to know there are dad's out there who feel that way too!

Unknown said...

I love that she is so intuitive, and communicates that she is there for you, even though she can't always do it in traditional ways. She's going to be OK, even if it doesn't all work out exactly the way you wish for her

mooserbeans said...

You are so right. You get so wrapped up in and with your children (in a good way) that it is hard to see yourself separately. When your child is born it really is like your little family becomes one breathing living thing. My oldest is 12 and that doesn't seem to have changed yet. I am so glad that you guys have each other.

Miz Kizzle said...

The rules to Hello Kitty Dominos are a constantly changing work in progress. No mortal over the age of 13 can comprehend them. It's sort of like trying to figure out nonlinear geometry or why Lady Gaga is such a huge success.

adequatemom said...

You're so right about parents depending on their children for self-worth and happiness - that's definitely how it is for me. Beautifully written, Rob.

But please don't feel that you are disposable. The fact that Schuyler reaches out to make sure you're okay, shows how much she needs/loves/values/trusts you. "To the world, you are one person, but to one person, you are the world."

Suzymom said...

it's very true that many parents feel that their happiness is directly linked to the well-being of their children. But this weekend I went to the funeral of a 45-yr-old woman. In church they talked at length about her dedication to her work. She had 3 children, aged 14, 12 and 10. I don't think the word 'mommy' was heard more than 3 times during the service. I can't stop wondering how these children must feel: having to say goodbye to their mother when the fact that she was part of their lives is hardly acknowledged. When I die, I hope they'll talk about me as a good mother, not as a dedicated and driven office worker...

farmwifetwo said...

Dependancy is one of those words with numerous meanings.

Am I dependant on my son's for my meaning in life?? No, but I've had hours mowing the farm - takes me 8 with the ride-on - to sort through those thoughts, wants, needs, guilt etc. Other's need to find other means to cope and accept.

Are you?? I'm not convinced b/c you wrote - paraphrasing b/c I'll lose this comment if I go and look - "no kidding". Those that are truly dependant, those that truly revolve their lives around their children, those that do that same thing around another person (boyfriend, girlfriend, etc) haven't a clue they are doing it.

She is dependant on you, and it is your job to raise her. Yes, being "special" means it takes a considerable "outside the box" work to do so. A lot more hours b/c in your case you enjoy (and you must since you keep doing it) advocating not just for your families needs but also strangers.

Fear will come, fear will go, fear will return at 3am and vanish at 9am when your day starts the same as most others and you enjoy your daughter and set it aside.

But, I'm not going to give up childhood to the monsters in the closet... they will have to be faced soon enough... I'm off to take my non-verbal autistic son outside to the playset and the cost of Mommy pushing the swing... a kiss... He's 8 and Mommy's boy for a little while longer... We'll get back to our " 30min/day homeschooling" on Monday.

amylia said...

"My happiness, my sense of personal worth, my very identity as a person is dependent on Schuyler and her own success, not just in school but in life."

While I believe I understand what you're saying and guess this is absolutely true for many a parent I also believe this is a heavy burden for any child to bear. Growing up my mother let me know in words and other ways that her happiness was dependent on me and that she did better in her life when I was a major part of it and it made me feel so conflicted--like I wanted my own life to be free and not to feel as though my parent depended on me for their own lifted mood or sense of happiness and personal worth. I resented it and to this day I still do to a degree though I understand it a bit better.

I don't have kids so anyone reading this can tell me to go take a flying leap because I can't possibly understand the capacity of the human heart and the complexities of parenting and having a child but I still think my point here is valid. I think it is tricky and a fine line and even moreso with a semi-public persona that depends on one's child for it's "umph" or verve for lack of a better word.

To be frank, it's one of the reasons I'm scared to be a parent. I know the joys are perhaps unknowable to one without a child and I've no doubt they are wonderful, but I'm afraid I'll f*ck 'em up accidentally or be in constant worry mode which would cause me great anxiety.

Anyway, blah, blah, blah. I think you know by now that I find you to be a loving father and a good man and it helps that you share these things with others who feel the same way but lack either the courage or platform on which to express them.

I thank you for expressing the hard truths and the great joys and everything in between.

amylia said...

@Suzymom--I see your point but don't you think it's dangerous territory to be judging a working mom post-funeral? Things are not always as black and white as we'd like them to be. I find many people judge me, too, for not having children (yet) at 33 like there must be some great divide between working moms and SAHM's or those without children and those with. Why do we do this to each other as women? Would you have felt the same way if it were a man--a father as opposed to a mother who was being applauded for his work life @ his funeral and less so for his family life (of which both could be very active but that's a more private area than work)? I wonder.

Anonymous said...

"I think it is tricky and a fine line and even moreso with a semi-public persona that depends on one's child for it's "umph" or verve for lack of a better word."

Wow, Amylia, no offense but what a cynical and insulting thing to insinuate. I don't think it sounds like you think Rob is a loving father at all. I think it wounds like you're accusing him of using his daughter for self-promotion. What a bitch.

Robert Hudson said...

Hey now, play nice, everyone. I'm a big boy, i can handle criticism.