a dance for my father
At the moment, our couch is standing on its side, almost touching the ceiling, in the middle of the hall like nobody's business. It's standing there amongst other clutter from our living room - the coffee table, the TV set, piles of pillows. My dad is painting the living room. Well, not right now, but till he's done, the living room furniture will be squatting elsewhere.
I've been bonding with my dad all week. My close friends will find that strange because they know the history of my chaotic relationship with him. Actually, I'm finding it strange myself. I believe it's a mix of things - my learning not to take the things he says too personally and learning not to react violently, at the same time it's also because he is ticked off at my mom. It was a stupid little thing to do with chocolate, but he's been ignoring her the past two weeks and in the process is talking to me more.
It's also because of the new upheaval at work. People have been breaking down in tears right and left that he's worried that I will, too, soon. I doubt it. The cool thing is my dad says to me, "You have discovered who you are as a dancer a long time ago, don't let anyone change that. Just be who you are." And that is exactly the reason why I doubt I'm gonna break down into tears anytime soon. The last time I broke down in tears, it was because I thought I was never going to dance again. I think I'm strong enough for anything else.
Because he's not talking to my mom, he's asking me my opinions on what shade of paint to use, what accents to add to the living room when it's done. It's nice and companionable.
This has bled into the other things: I am more patient with his outbursts that he actually apologizes when he figures he had hurt my feelings. And we joke around more now. Like he said to me at lunch today, "Hey anorexic, you're getting fat." I reply, "Really? Excuse me, I gotta go vomit." And he nods and says, "Good. That means I'll be buying handcuffs soon." - he's always threatening to handcuff me to the house if ever I acquire an eating disorder.
After rehearsal today, Rico told me I did good. I have a strange feeling that it's only because I'm just being who I am. Just how my Dad was who he was when he was still dancing. And who he is still.
Now if I can only drag him out of the living room on Friday so that he can watch me dance.
I've been bonding with my dad all week. My close friends will find that strange because they know the history of my chaotic relationship with him. Actually, I'm finding it strange myself. I believe it's a mix of things - my learning not to take the things he says too personally and learning not to react violently, at the same time it's also because he is ticked off at my mom. It was a stupid little thing to do with chocolate, but he's been ignoring her the past two weeks and in the process is talking to me more.
It's also because of the new upheaval at work. People have been breaking down in tears right and left that he's worried that I will, too, soon. I doubt it. The cool thing is my dad says to me, "You have discovered who you are as a dancer a long time ago, don't let anyone change that. Just be who you are." And that is exactly the reason why I doubt I'm gonna break down into tears anytime soon. The last time I broke down in tears, it was because I thought I was never going to dance again. I think I'm strong enough for anything else.
Because he's not talking to my mom, he's asking me my opinions on what shade of paint to use, what accents to add to the living room when it's done. It's nice and companionable.
This has bled into the other things: I am more patient with his outbursts that he actually apologizes when he figures he had hurt my feelings. And we joke around more now. Like he said to me at lunch today, "Hey anorexic, you're getting fat." I reply, "Really? Excuse me, I gotta go vomit." And he nods and says, "Good. That means I'll be buying handcuffs soon." - he's always threatening to handcuff me to the house if ever I acquire an eating disorder.
After rehearsal today, Rico told me I did good. I have a strange feeling that it's only because I'm just being who I am. Just how my Dad was who he was when he was still dancing. And who he is still.
Now if I can only drag him out of the living room on Friday so that he can watch me dance.