Just found this video that my Google plus account produced — an automated construction using images that I posted to my old Blogger account that were sitting in a Picasa album. Facebook builds similar things at the end of the year. Watching I was struck by how well it depicted, in part, some of the things that took place in my life. Paging through old family photo albums that my mother fastidiously curated and maintained do the same sort of thing. But who has time to carefully mount and label images with meaningful captions anymore?
Certainly not me.
It did get me thinking about Scooter in the Sticks and the reasons why I blog.
- To get rich. (Hah, fat chance, pipe dream, immersion in denial)
- To sort things out that perplex or bother me. (This is absolutely true)
- To practice writing. (That’s how it started. A blank page doesn’t frighten me anymore)
After looking at the video a couple times I realized there’s another reason — I want to share something of myself, leave something behind to help my family, and my infant granddaughter know something about what goes on between my ears.
I never really knew my father despite having spent a lot of time with him. We were close, he was supportive, but I never really knew what he thought about, what bothered him, concerned him. In art school I produced a series of videos about myself and I remember screening one for a class and afterwards several students — decades younger than me — told me how much they wished their fathers had made something like this. Like me, they didn’t really know their fathers.
The Year in Pictures doesn’t reveal any secrets about me. But it does reflect some of the things I’ve done. As I approach 900 posts on this blog I can’t help but believe there’s some insight about what’s important to me. I don’t have anything about my father that would fill one blog post that’s not a photograph. After he was gone there were so many questions that I wished I had asked.
So many.
And the same goes for my mother though she revealed a bit more. But much was unsaid and unlooked for. Too bad now.
Do you know your father and mother?
Pretty cool video though there were no photos of the emergency room. That has probably had a bigger impact on you, your thoughts and your posts than anything else that happened all year.
That’s because it was from 2014 up until I abandoned Blogger for WordPress. All the heart attack stuff happened in 2015. So no more automated stuff from Google Plus since I’m not posting images to Picasa or Google.
You’re right about the emergency room — that cardiac event has reshaped my life. Hell of a way to get a makeover…
Very nice.
Thanks Robert. I was pleased to find it. Nice to be reminded of where I’ve been and who I’ve seen.
Like you, I never really knew my father; so many things I could have asked of him but was too afraid to do so. I lost him about five years ago and now am about to lose my mother. We knew so much more from and about her, fortunately, which in some ways makes her pending loss that much more painful. Scooting is my release, as is my ceramic painting. We all must have some sort of coping mechanism. Ride on,Mr. Steve!
We all find ways to release as you say, cope with the toil and work of living. Painting and scooting fall into the healthy ways of doing that!
Sorry to hear about your mother. Be well.
My father succeeded in business when I was very young, so my parents sent me away to an out-of-state boarding school when I was 12. They truly believed that they were providing me the makings of a better life than they had. I came home at age 18, just four weeks before they both tragically died. It is a huge gift to have parents in our lives. We should never take them for granted, and we should do our best to try to get to know them.
The story lines of our lives may be dramatically different but some common themes run through them all. One being that we want our parents in our lives. I know everyone’s situation is different and not all parents can be (or should be) in their children’s lives, but acknowledging that desire is important. Both my parents were in my life but I had neither the fore thought or courage to really get to know them…
Your observation that you were close to your father but never really knew him struck somewhat of a cord.
When my dad was diagnosed with cancer in April 1997 (he passed away 8 months later) I mentioned to him a letter that German poet Matthias Claudius wrote to his son in 1799. In it, he beautifully sums up his beliefs and hopes for his son. I remember hoping at the time that my dad would leave something like that for his children, for me. He never did.
I have thought about this a lot since he passed and ultimately came to the conclusion that it was his way of placing the responsibility for our lives firmly back into our own hands as things such as Claudius’ letter can hold great power and influence over the ones left behind, and might unintentionally nudge a person away from his or her own path. Mind you, I was an adult at the time of his death but longed for something meaningful to keep beyond losing him.
I found that ‘Something’ on my own by pursuing my family history. It truly created a sense of belonging and ‘connectedness’ for me and helped me deal with the grief and to a degree with the question of who my father was, where he came from, what informed him.
Just the thoughts that crowded my head when reading you blog today…
Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts and experience with your father. You’re right about a parting letter potentially holding some undue power over a child, especially if it invoked some parental wish that was at odds with a child’s natural inclinations or path. If I think about my own kids I really only have a few things I want them to know for certain — I love them, and they can count on me when they need me. I had that from both of my parents and it was always there, in the back of my mind, a sort of “I’ll be ok” feeling because I knew I wasn’t alone in the world.
I think the way you are finding “something” is the part of my father that I wish I had. I have bits and scraps but not the more personal details.
Sorry I crowded up your head with this post!
Very very good !!!
Thanks Lorenzo!
Nice one Steve.
Things just pass through my head and it helps to write them down sometimes and all of a sudden a blog post appears…
Neat little video, and a great reminder to invest more time in my own children, and in staying in touch with my Dad.
It’s too late for me to get to know my father better but I’m glad others are thinking about it while they still can.