An Old Dispatch…
December 30, 2014
Hey Dad,
You wrote something beautiful, a long time ago, intended for this space. I never put it up but I'm doing it now, and I hope that we can get moving on this again. So many things have happened that have made me turn away from even wanting to engage. But it feels important now, for so many reasons, to wake this space up. Also, the blue I like seems to be gone. And your red is messed up, too. You lose some you lose some, as Luigi would say.
-A
Andrea,
I’ve been thinking about this entry for the reconciliation project which is not at all the direction we’ve been going but rather a reflection on one aspect of my life that I want to share with you. You don’t have to respond or post it. If you think it is too personal for the project we can certainly keep it in family.
One evening about a month ago your mother and I were watching an old 1943 movie entitled Heaven Can Wait starring Gene Tierney and Don Ameche. Ameche plays the part of a rich playboy who has to answer for his wrong doing when he dies and goes before the devil to determine if he goes to hell or not. It is a very well made cleverly amusing movie about love and redemption.
There was a part in the movie that was a catharsis for me, a feeling hard to put into words of the deep love and understanding between not only the two characters but also between your mother and me. In recalling his life Ameche speaks about the evening of their 25th wedding anniversary. In a very luxurious house full of people Ameche looks for his wife who is not in the room at the time. He finds her in the library resting in a chair. They recollect their first evening when they met in that very room. He remembers standing in a corner, she remembers him sitting. He remembers her looking frightened, she tells him after 25 years she wasn’t frightened at all. She then gets a phone call and coyly dismisses her husband’s question about who was calling. When he admits he is jealous she tells him it was the doctor. She had been getting dizzy spells. It ends up this was their last anniversary together; she passes away a few months later. At this point I looked to your mother, and she was fast asleep.
After chuckling to myself I realized how fortunate that we found each other. What a deep love and understanding we have that has evolved over 37 years. And at this point I wanted with all my being the same thing for you and your brother, to experience the same deep love and understanding after being married 37 years and beyond. To know that would make me a very happy and fulfilled person indeed.
Hope this isn’t too maudlin but every once in a while we have to stop and realize how lucky we are.
Dad