What We See With Perspective

My father came and visited me today. He only stayed a few minutes and we chatted about this and that and other unimportant stuff. What we were really there to discuss was just exactly how unhappy he is with his health. How much pain he's been in after a "fall down" accident which has given him a huge black eye and a scar on his forehead. He's been going through a lot lately. Many different small but serious things have been going on with him, he's been in pain and he's been inconvenienced by his body not doing what he wants it to do.

Well, he's 80+ and I think he's doing really well compared to many his age but that's not what he wants to hear. He wants sympathy and he wants understanding. I see that. I see it - but I'm stuck here with a perspective of our relationship which is left over from my childhood. It is of me (the son) as his child looking to him (the father) to make it all well. I look at him as the sick man I am who is finding that every day above ground is a blessing. I haved tried to stay grateful and I'm unable to give too much sympathy to him in fear that it will lead to pity and I cannot afford to become mired in self-pity. I am also stuck upon this question of perspective. How does a child, even an adult child, reach out and lift up a parent? How can I be the strong one, the nurturing one, the parent to my parent? There is a dysfunction here. It is not what one thinks about when young.

I keep wanting my father to continue to be hearty and healthy. I keep looking for him to become the "Father William" of Lewis Carroll fame. I don't know if I can deal with a sick and weakened father. I know I cannot reach out and nurture him without giving my psyche a serious twist.

I'm gonna have to think about this...

And while I do, I'll share "Father William" with those who haven't heard or read it. It is one of Lewis Carroll's most famous poems.



You Are Old Father William

"You are old, father William," the young man said,
"And your hair has become very white;
And yet you incessantly stand on your head --
Do you think, at your age, it is right?

"In my youth," father William replied to his son,
"I feared it might injure the brain;
But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again."

"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,
And you have grown most uncommonly fat;
Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door --
Pray what is the reason for that?"

"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his grey locks,
"I kept all my limbs very supple
By the use of this ointment -- one shilling a box --
Allow me to sell you a couple?"

"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak
For anything tougher than suet;
Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak --
Pray, how did you manage to do it?"

"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law,
And argued each case with my wife;
And the muscular strength, which it gave to my jaw,
Has lasted the rest of my life."

"You are old," said the youth, "one would hardly suppose
That your eye was as steady as ever;
Yet you balanced an eel on the tend of your nose --
What made you so awfully clever?"

"I have answered three questions, and that is enough,"
Said his father. "Don't give yourself airs!
Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?

Be off, or I'll kick you down stairs.

~~ Lewis Carroll ~~