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My father called last night, to ask me if I would like to go to a trade show with him, today - small businesses from Maine and New Hampshire showing off their wares. When I asked what it was about he had to start from first principles of explaining what a trade show was, and then I had to ask him again what it was about. (Based on the fact he'd said he didn't think I'd be all that interested in it, and him being a big boat buff, I had thought it might be all boat builders and sellers.) Then he was completely baffled and surprised by my apologizing that I had to work, today. He said it hadn't even crossed his mind that I might not be able to go out and walk around with him at some point during the day. It's as though he thinks I don't really have a real job.
Oh, that was the other thing - he said he thought the trade show might be a place for me to find a job. I didn't ask him why he thought a job with a small business which is probably struggling to even get any insurance for it's employees might be a better opportunity than working for the Federal Government. (I suspect he might have the same reservations that I do about Federal jobs, the Government being what it is, especially these days, so I wasn't going to go into it.)
It used to be that these sorts of assumptions on his part would have really annoyed me and I probably would have sniped at him on the phone for being like that, or held my tongue and just felt pissy about it, but a few years ago I finally let go of that. Now I can be amused. My father doesn't think I have a real job, he's never going to think that any job I ever have is real, he's always going to think I know zero about anything. This time, in retaliation, I told him about going to DC for the training, and emphasized that I was one of eight people chosen from 90-odd, and totally knew I was boasting on purpose to shut him up. ;)
However, the conversation was a good thing, over all. I pumped him for information on family, step-family and other people from the old area, and it was all very amusing and entertaining, at least for me. :) I'm not sure it will translate to writing, but I do want to put some of it down before I forget it, somewhere. Best, I think, was the interchange about some old friends of his he went to see on Saturday:
Mr and Mrs R were neighbors of ours when I was a kid - Mrs. R was a sweetheart, always had popsicles and treats for us, so a great favorite. Mrs. R. fell and hit her head a while back (time, as for me, is very vague for my father - a while could mean anything from months to years) and since then she sees people and animals where other people don't. But they look quite solid to her, apparently.
I mused aloud to Dad, "That must be hard to deal with. I mean, if you see a person in your back yard you want to deal with them as if they were really there. If you didn't have anyone else around to tell you if they are real or not it would be difficult to know if you should bother to notice them."
"They might all be 'real' in some sense, on some plane. It's just that a rock might fly right through them on this plane."
"That's one way of dealing with it. You could just chunk a rock at every person you see."
I asked after an Aunt - well, really his cousin, but she was always like a sister to him, so I always called her Aunt - and it seems she had some heart trouble a while back. I had heard she'd been born with some sort of heart condition, but he said they'd fixed that a long while back. There had been a hole between two parts of her heart, which didn't affect her much, he said, aside from the fact she could get too much oxygen in her blood and that made her go all funny if she laughed too much. And she loves to laugh, always did, so when they were kids he thought it was tremendously amusing to get her laughing really hard, because then she'd go crosseyed and fall over backward and wouldn't make much sense for a while. His mother eventually put a stop to him doing that by explaining why it wasn't a good idea. :)
I told him there's a rash of kids hyperventilating, lately, and they're calling it a problem. He said they could call it a problem all they want now that he's no longer in school. ;)
I also finally told Dad that I've been wanting to write up some of his ghost stories.
"Those weren't stories! They really happened!"
"But they made such good stories. And you told them so well. I don't know if I can get the voice right."
That mollified him, and he told me again about seeing his wife's father the day he died. "He came walking up the driveway and asked, 'Where is everyone?' and I thought, 'Over to Osen's,' but I didn't get a chance to say it before he turned toward the camper, took two more steps, and disappeared. If he hadn't disappeared like that I'd have thought he was really there." ([My note:] He was actually at the lake, pulling in his boat from the water. The water was quite cold - I think it was October - and he suffered a heart attack.) "And when we went to the funeral and looked into his casket I thought, 'This isn't real. He's playing a trick! I saw him walking around.'"
I just report it. :)
Oh, that was the other thing - he said he thought the trade show might be a place for me to find a job. I didn't ask him why he thought a job with a small business which is probably struggling to even get any insurance for it's employees might be a better opportunity than working for the Federal Government. (I suspect he might have the same reservations that I do about Federal jobs, the Government being what it is, especially these days, so I wasn't going to go into it.)
It used to be that these sorts of assumptions on his part would have really annoyed me and I probably would have sniped at him on the phone for being like that, or held my tongue and just felt pissy about it, but a few years ago I finally let go of that. Now I can be amused. My father doesn't think I have a real job, he's never going to think that any job I ever have is real, he's always going to think I know zero about anything. This time, in retaliation, I told him about going to DC for the training, and emphasized that I was one of eight people chosen from 90-odd, and totally knew I was boasting on purpose to shut him up. ;)
However, the conversation was a good thing, over all. I pumped him for information on family, step-family and other people from the old area, and it was all very amusing and entertaining, at least for me. :) I'm not sure it will translate to writing, but I do want to put some of it down before I forget it, somewhere. Best, I think, was the interchange about some old friends of his he went to see on Saturday:
Mr and Mrs R were neighbors of ours when I was a kid - Mrs. R was a sweetheart, always had popsicles and treats for us, so a great favorite. Mrs. R. fell and hit her head a while back (time, as for me, is very vague for my father - a while could mean anything from months to years) and since then she sees people and animals where other people don't. But they look quite solid to her, apparently.
I mused aloud to Dad, "That must be hard to deal with. I mean, if you see a person in your back yard you want to deal with them as if they were really there. If you didn't have anyone else around to tell you if they are real or not it would be difficult to know if you should bother to notice them."
"They might all be 'real' in some sense, on some plane. It's just that a rock might fly right through them on this plane."
"That's one way of dealing with it. You could just chunk a rock at every person you see."
I asked after an Aunt - well, really his cousin, but she was always like a sister to him, so I always called her Aunt - and it seems she had some heart trouble a while back. I had heard she'd been born with some sort of heart condition, but he said they'd fixed that a long while back. There had been a hole between two parts of her heart, which didn't affect her much, he said, aside from the fact she could get too much oxygen in her blood and that made her go all funny if she laughed too much. And she loves to laugh, always did, so when they were kids he thought it was tremendously amusing to get her laughing really hard, because then she'd go crosseyed and fall over backward and wouldn't make much sense for a while. His mother eventually put a stop to him doing that by explaining why it wasn't a good idea. :)
I told him there's a rash of kids hyperventilating, lately, and they're calling it a problem. He said they could call it a problem all they want now that he's no longer in school. ;)
I also finally told Dad that I've been wanting to write up some of his ghost stories.
"Those weren't stories! They really happened!"
"But they made such good stories. And you told them so well. I don't know if I can get the voice right."
That mollified him, and he told me again about seeing his wife's father the day he died. "He came walking up the driveway and asked, 'Where is everyone?' and I thought, 'Over to Osen's,' but I didn't get a chance to say it before he turned toward the camper, took two more steps, and disappeared. If he hadn't disappeared like that I'd have thought he was really there." ([My note:] He was actually at the lake, pulling in his boat from the water. The water was quite cold - I think it was October - and he suffered a heart attack.) "And when we went to the funeral and looked into his casket I thought, 'This isn't real. He's playing a trick! I saw him walking around.'"
I just report it. :)
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From:
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"That's one way of dealing with it. You could just chunk a rock at every person you see."
That's an incredibly brilliant way of dealing with possibly-not-real-people.
From:
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I may have to break down and get out a tape recorder and interview him. I probably should do it soon, because he has bad emphysema.
He laughed 'til I thought he'd choke, and said I should use that in a story. :)