# What my father taught me.



## Plasticweld (Apr 4, 2014)

Have you ever noticed that the phone never rings at a good time?   When it rang that morning, I was busy with something; can’t even tell you what. 

My father, on the other end; I try and sound interested as we speak.  Brilliant in his field as a thermal physicist, he lacks an understanding of all that really is important in life. 

 We are polar opposites; accented only by the long un-comfortable pauses in our conversations. 
We get past the cut and paste greetings that are required.  I am silent on the other end, not sure whether to start talking or not.  My father one of the best read men I know, is at a complete loss when it comes to carrying on a conversation.  I make friends when buying a gallon of milk at the store.   He relies on me to do most of the talking; what I’ve read, or done in business.  it always seems to take more energy than it should to talk to him.  Seldom do we talk about kids or wives; politics or history are the only thing that gets him going.

Today I am weary, tired of being the one who always has to keep the conversation going; for a change; I am the quiet one today.

A long pause.... dead air.... we both just listen to each other breath in the phone.

“I went to the hospital this week, I hadn’t been feeling well” The words came out in no more than a whisper; my father fell back into his silence.

  “So are you OK?” trying to sound at least more upbeat than him; more out of habit than concern. 

“No”  then silence.

  I was not sure how to respond “What do you mean no?” 

  My dad was not one to ever complain.  
“I got cancer... lots of cancer”

 “Huh” was all that I was able to say. 

A good son would have said more.

“They say I have six months to live.” Another painful silence.

I cleared my throat, giving me some time to think and to fill up the silence.  “So how are you handling it?”  My dad who seldom shared his feelings was surprisingly blunt.

 “I am depressed” Had it been anyone else I would have been much more sympathetic.

They say you are either like your parents or you are the opposite of them.  My father taught me a lot, he taught me what not to be.  I have always been involved in dangerous things- both by choice and by line of work.  I never once thought it was guaranteed that I was coming home that night.  I made it a point to make sure nothing was left un-said "there were no regrets." Unlike my father I was not afraid of failure or injury. 

I had no idea how to console my father, he lived life like he was entitled to it.  He was cautious and calculated and he did not take risks. 

In the end it did not matter; he was as afraid of death as he was afraid of life.

He did teach me what was important, I wish he could have shown me in a different way.


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## InstituteMan (Apr 4, 2014)

Wow. Since this is in the non-fiction forum, I should start with saying that I am sorry.

This made me think about my own father, our uncomfortable telephone calls, and what I have learned from him (often to do the opposite of him). While my sundry issues with my father are different than yours, your writing really resonates with me. Well done.

It seems petty to point out formatting weirdness (I am guessing from a copy and paste). The semicolons and choppy sentences (sometimes fragments) kind of worked for me in this piece, but I wouldn't want to endorse that approach across the board.

Those are all small bore issues, though. Thanks for posting this, and good luck to both you and your father.


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## patskywriter (Apr 4, 2014)

This part really bugs me:

_*My father on the other end; I try and sound interested as we speak.   Brilliant in his field as a thermal physicist, he lacks an understanding  of all that really is important in life.*_

The very fact that he's a father puts the son in a bad light for saying this and makes him appear unappreciative and arrogant. I wonder if this statement could be toned down a bit.


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## Greimour (Apr 5, 2014)

patskywriter said:


> This part really bugs me:
> 
> _*My father on the other end; I try and sound interested as we speak.   Brilliant in his field as a thermal physicist, he lacks an understanding  of all that really is important in life.*_
> 
> The very fact that he's a father puts the son in a bad light for saying this and makes him appear unappreciative and arrogant. I wonder if this statement could be toned down a bit.



I disagree, personally. 
Not that it puts the son in a bad light, that is open to interpretation to a reader. Just that it should be toned down.
To me it was like he felt guilty for not being a doting son that knew what to say. The arrogant and unappreciative attitude that came across conveyed guilt and sadness - for not being a better son. But it was also done in a matter-of-fact like manner. "I wish things could have been different, but that's just how we are/were" kind of deal.
So I think it's written appropriately based on my interpretation of what happened.


A personal digression.

My dad, for the vast majority of my life, was my hero.
As I grew older, I noticed some of his 'not-so-good' habits/traits. Such things which the heroic pedestal had blinded me to. 

Were I now to convey our relationship - I might seem arrogant and unappreciative to my father. In fact, I would definitely seem unappreciative. He is my biological father and he _was_ my dad... But my _father_ and my _dad_ are two different people: Who he is now, is not the man that raised me. 
I feel guilty sometimes for how our relationship has turned sour - because it is largely on me. He is more than willing to accept me with open arms, just like my dad would have done... but I see in him things that I didn't see in my dad and it's hard for me to accept it. So... guilt, shame, arrogance, unappreciative, sadness and sorrow - amongst other things. I see and feel those where my father/dad is concerned... and I see them in what is written in the original post of the thread. So to me, the sentence you mentioned is apt.

In fact:

_*My father on the other end of the line... I try and sound interested as we  speak.   Brilliant as his mind is being the mathematician he is; he lacks an  understanding  of what is really important in life.*_

Works perfectly for me and my father - and my opinions.


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## patskywriter (Apr 5, 2014)

Greimour, I can definitely see your point. But for me, that statement being made right at the beginning tainted my view of the son. I didn't take him seriously after that. I still do get your point, though.


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## Divus (Apr 5, 2014)

PW  - it is a nice piece of writing about what is a very sensitive subject.       
The problem always with such emotional subjects is a reluctance by the reader to criticise the article.

There are, from a writing point of view, a few relatively minor criticisms I might make - were I to be pedantic.    I  will not try.    It is for you to read the article back in a few weeks time and make your own amendments,

Sorry for your loss - whenever you were afflicted by it.

Dv


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## Plasticweld (Apr 5, 2014)

patskywriter said:


> This part really bugs me:
> 
> _*My father on the other end; I try and sound interested as we speak.   Brilliant in his field as a thermal physicist, he lacks an understanding  of all that really is important in life.*_
> 
> The very fact that he's a father puts the son in a bad light for saying this and makes him appear unappreciative and arrogant. I wonder if this statement could be toned down a bit.



Thanks for the comments, my father did pass away, it has been coming up on 15 years now.  You are correct in your statement.  I don't know if arrogant would be correct but not far from the truth. My father who by the worlds standards had everything, wealth, a big family, a brilliant mind, great respect in his field and was known as a innovator that was able to solve some of the most complex problems. 


The trouble was that he was miserable and lonely. I am considered the black sheep of a wealthy well educated family, I married early, worked with my hands. I struggled financially for years until I was in my early thirties. I managed to be happily married and raise kids that are well balanced and turned into good parents themselves.  

There is a certain anger that comes from seeing someone who has it all and still have nothing that matters. The tone of the story is correct because it is real.  I started to write this with no intention of going in the direction it took. It started out from I wanted to describe as un-comfortable phone conversation for one of the exercises on this forum and turned into this.  I had debated about even posting and originally thought about doing it in the fiction section. 

"I am a firm believer of writing what you know, while I do write some fiction it is based on something that is real that I have added to. It seems petty to point out formatting weirdness (I am guessing from a copy and paste). The semicolons and choppy sentences (sometimes fragments) kind of worked for me in this piece, but I wouldn't want to endorse that approach across the board."


Institueman    you are correct about the copy and past and the formatting the fragmented sentences are on purpose.  I try and duplicate my thought process as it happens. I don't think I am that different from others. When in the middle of one thought or sentence I have already jumped to the next. It is kind of like writing about what you are thinking while other person is talking.  I also am trying to set the mood by it being quick. My thoughts come at me a hundred miles an hour and at no time am I looking at the blue sky on  a warm sunny day watching the leaves float by while the warm breezes tussle my hair..[ Sarcasm ]  I would love to be able to write in the fashion I am using, any help is appreciated.  Just because the subject is sensitive I wrote with this with the idea that you guys would help me get better at conveying my thoughts in word. I would also like to continue in this style of writing just because everyone else is not doing it

Greimour I had the opposite experience with my dad, it was not until I became older that I realized what he had squandered, that made me a bitter. I have a hard time dealing with the fact that a man could be afraid of things that did  not matter; and let it ruin what did.  


My father did teach me how to be a better husband and father by showing  me what not to do. I thought I would share an honest insight into how I felt.  The reality is that feelings are not always correct or proper or even possible to defend, [they are just what they are]


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## dither (Apr 5, 2014)

Well PW,
you speak of the anger that comes from seeing someone who has it all and still have nothing that matters.
He might have thought that of you mate, different strokes eh?

I would suggest that he had EVERYTHING that mattered, to him.

And as for being afraid of living and dying in equal measure, I wonder if you have any idea what sort of a hell that is.

No offence intended.

Good for him I say.

dither


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## Divus (Apr 5, 2014)

PW,   Your bitterness comes across to me in your writing.      Maybe because you  have not purged yourself of your emotions by talking them through with another relative who perhaps knew your Father from a different perspective.   
In life you are only issued with one Father and you missed out with yours - as he missed out with you.
If you delve into writing as a result of grief then maybe he left you with a hobby for the rest of your life.        As for help from us fellow writers with your articles, then all I can suggest is that you get on with it and write some more.

Try writing on a topic which gives you some joy.   You need to smile more.

Dv


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## Divus (Apr 5, 2014)

Just a hint from a fellow writer:

I write to purge my mind.   Most of the time the topic is associated with animals: - dogs, horses and recently, a blind cat.    Few viewers bother to read my work and even fewer to make a critique of it.   But the fact that there are a few fellow writers out there who from time to time put finger to key is enough to spur me on.

Sometimes I am surprised when a little after posting a response or a new thread I am surprised when I read it back.     But it all helps me put things into perspective.    By writing I can purge my mind and move on.   That is until another thought comes to fire me up.

Try it for yourself - this hobby of ours is just so cathartic.  

Dv


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## Kevin (Apr 5, 2014)

Tthis is the sort of piece that could be re-written many times, start to finish. Always when I read something like it (or compose, for that matter) I take it as a perspective skewed by over familiarity. Subjectivity is clouded by a lack of perspective because there has been so much that has happened in close vicinity. Therefor, I break off judgment and just listen. 

So, overall, I found it a little vague. Though I understand the concept of learning by example (even 'bad example') I, as the reader wanted some detail, perhaps example or incident.  It is well written enough but as partial memoir perhaps the writer could re-visit in the future and go with some anecdote  or description of the contrast between the two styles of parent/child relationship. 


And by the way, I think Patsky's point was completely missed. Patsky, I wonder if you realize the complete opposite or lack of inherent respect as expected in some cultures.  I was raised that way, questioning everything. many mistakes were made but eventually I got there. Respect to you, K  (sorry for the digression, all).


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## dither (Apr 5, 2014)

Divus said:


> Just a hint from a fellow writer:
> 
> I write to purge my mind.   Most of the time the topic is associated with animals: - dogs, horses and recently, a blind cat.    Few viewers bother to read my work and even fewer to make a critique of it.   But the fact that there are a few fellow writers out there who from time to time put finger to key is enough to spur me on.
> 
> ...



Totally agree,


even posting the drivel that I do, helps.


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## InstituteMan (Apr 5, 2014)

Hey, PW, one suggestion that I would add from reading your comments is to note the general timeline here to let the reader know that enough time has passed for you, the author, not to still be raw from the experience. I think that the explicit  perspective of time could help with this topic.

I think that you hit the mark with this one, as evidenced by some of the strong feelings folks have. As a father of (young) adult children, and being the son of a father with whom I have a highly fraught relationship, the only respect I want from my children is the respect they think I deserve. I respect some aspects of my own father, and I see plenty of him in me, both to the good and the bad, but I certainly don't idolize him. I don't want to be idolized myself. I don't want to put words in your metaphorical pen, but that is the message that I took from your piece, maybe because that is the message I was looking for in it. If you have the time and energy, you could fill this out into something really powerful, at least for those who have been there in some way.


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## dither (Apr 5, 2014)

I think, and I can only speak for myself,
 having failed in my youth,to understand and totally condemning  the actions of my father, I suddenly, when it's too late of course, find myself understanding why. That's not to say that I agree with the decisions that he made, and how he lived his life, but I wonder how many people look back and think "yes, okay, but if only he'd............." Well he didn't, and you  just have to let it be.
I don't know if that makes any sense.

dither


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## Gumby (Apr 5, 2014)

Hi PW, I thought this was a very telling piece, saying just as much by what was not said, as it did with what was said. I could easily see this being expanded into a more comprehensive story about your relationship with your dad.

 I do think that there are some punctuation issues here, but being more of a poetry person, I am not the best one to point out the corrections. There are a few places, mostly after quotation marks, that needed a period or a comma. Here are a couple of places that seemed to need a comma or capitalization.



> My father, one of the best read men I know, is at a complete loss when it comes to carrying on a conversation.





> He relies on me to do most of the talking; what I’ve read, or done in  business. It always seems to take more energy than it should to talk to  him.



As I said, I'm not the best at correcting these things, but I do think a good edit would improve on it.


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## Plasticweld (Apr 5, 2014)

Thank you gentlemen for the advice and comments, instead of responding to each I will share a little insight with you to better understand where I come from as a writer.  

I am not angry about my relationship with my father, it has  made me who I am.  While I wish things could have been different, it would also mean I am no longer who I am today. 

Some of you here know a little more about me than  others, one of the other stories I posted " I am thinking of joining a clandestine group" was originally titled 
" I hear the KKK is recruiting"
The story had nothing to do with the KKK. I was only trying draw on similarities between joining an online forum and joining a group which you had only basic information about and the process of being accepted by like minded individuals. I also wanted a heading that would grab your attention.   If you re-read the story you can see where I wanted to take the reader, only when they had finished the last paragraph would they realize what I was talking about. I wanted to take full advantage of the assumptions you were making and in a subtle way point them out.  The story when first posted was immediately pulled. The title did strike a nerve, which was intended. It went a little deeper than I had intended and I offend more than one person. After they  re- read my story with some further explanation from me, they asked me to  make some changes so it did not look like I was implying we were the KKK  here at the WritersForums.com I was able to post again. 


I strive in what I write to elicit emotion, I am doing the best I can to create and intense dialog and set of actions that make the reader more interested in what is being said or done than the mechanics of the story. I pride myself in being an excellent story teller. I have learned over the years, a pace and format for telling the story so that the listener leans in. I try and do the same thing with my writing. 


I am partially deaf, I read lips and consider myself and expert on body language. Because I can not hear I have to pay attention to all of the subtle signals that someone gives off while listing to a story. My guess is that if a lot of writers had the ability to see the reactions of the reader to some of their work they would correct much of what is being written. When speaking I can tell in  a second if I am starting to loose someone's interest. I can then adjust my words and pace to keep them in story. My writing only reflects what I have learned over the years as far as pace and short broken sentences. Most of what I lack is the ability in words get the pauses right and the emphases correct. 


I would hope that any of the stories that I share, elicit  strong emotion the urge you to read the next line.
 I still have a long way to go before I could call myself a writer instead of story teller   

Thanks for the encouragement  and a place where I can exercise my mind...


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## Pandora (Apr 9, 2014)

Some say our children come to teach us. I have a feeling you taught your father much and forgive me, not what he didn't want to be. 

I have to add, men, I watch it and live it, I feel the walls. I wish too things had been different for you and your Dad, it's never too late though. 
You tugged my heart with _What my father taught me_, Plasticweld.


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## Bard_Daniel (Apr 11, 2014)

I really liked this.

There's some minor punctuation you have to fix up, which others have mentioned, but overall the piece is solid. No complaints.

I'm also so fucking sorry. I lost my mother to cancer when I was twelve, so I can partially understand how you feel.


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## ChrisK (Apr 25, 2014)

The 'not making a big thing of it' part reminds me so much of my Dad. I went home not long ago and found out my Dad had a heart attack. When I asked my parents why they had not told me they said, 'oh, we didn't want to worry you.'


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## Reichelina (Apr 5, 2016)

> “I am depressed” Had it been anyone else I would have been much more sympathetic.



I can somehow relate to this. My family doesn't show much affection. 
So when emotions are shown, I don't know what to do. Not that I don't care, but I don't know how to show it without being "too much". 
I am very emotional but my family doesn't really know "who I am". 

I wish to change that. 

When it comes to friends, it's a different story though.


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## fisaffie (Jun 28, 2016)

Hello Plastic weld,

I so enjoyed reading "my father taught me". As regards to mine, he hated the telephone so much that he  refused to answer it.  
"It's always somebody wanting something" he'd complain and either ignore the ringing wait for someone else to pick it up. His other ploy was to pull the telephone plug out of the jack, leaving them out of contact for days at a time until my mother discovered what he'd done, and replaced it.

I suppose it didn't help that we lived on a remote cattle ranch in the foothills of the Drakensberg mountains, in South Africa in the 1950s onwards, and our telephone was one of those strange black, bakelite boxes nailed to the wall with two little brass bells on the top. The receiver hung off a separate book and to alert the operator at the telephone exchange one had to vigourously crank a small handle attached to the side of the box.

Even more trying was the fact that we shared one line with 11 other users. It was called a 'party line' and all 12 members had a different ring code. Our telephone number was 1012, which meant we had to listen out for one short ring and two long ones as in Morse code. Our Zulu house staff, all of whom were illiterate, knew to listen out for that ring pattern and go and call my mother, who would be invariably head down in her beloved garden, pulling out weeds or replanting shrubs that the baboons had pulled up.

One of the members of the party line was a mission station run by French and Irish Roman Catholic nuns who was supposed to be a silent order as it was a retreat. But when ever one lifted the receiver to check of the line was busy they were constantly jabbering away, as my father put it, in French...  
"What would _nuns_ find to talk about?" Was his constant lament.

Hi Plasticweld,

I must apologise for not giving you my condolences on your father's health, before launching into my little piece on my own father's telephone conduct. I must have seemed really callous. I do hope that, if nothing else good happens, you are both drawn closer together by his illness.


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## Plasticweld (Jul 1, 2016)

Fisaffie, I loved your story.  It is very similar to mine, the phone is not the story but merely a catalyst for the story I wanted to tell.  Your story offers a real snap shot of what life was like, it gave you a chance to share something just as I did that really captures the time and lets me picture your family and your life back then.  

It is often the small things in life that trigger our memories, thanks for sharing your.    Welcome to the forum glad to see you in the NF section hoping to see more of your work...Bob


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## Pippin65 (Sep 19, 2016)

*Correction*

It was a touching piece. It moved me and to me, that's great writing. You reached out, from another time and space and touched me. How magical.
It also, as good writing does, made me think of my own experience.  My father taught me that there are men who have sons and still aren't fathers.  I do not number myself among those types of men. Happily.


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