Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Scoldings & Braums

I never really got to know the Wifey's father. Today would mark the day he passed away six years ago, a mere few weeks after my own mother. We would have small conversations, usually about sports, but nothing that would last longer than the uncomfortable few minutes. Frankly, I was scared to death of him, just as any normal 19 year old boy who was dating his daughter. The only real interaction we have ever had was the time he pulled me into the garage and practically scolded me for doing inappropriate things with his daughter while her brother was home. In my defense, the Wifey couldn't keep her deviant little hands off of me but that time we actually weren't doing anything at all. Needless to say, I spent a lot less time at the Wifey's house after that.

But just like my own mother, I contemplate the relationship that the Baby would have had with him. I imagine them both sitting on the couch, wrapped in a robe and house slippers and watching sports. I imagine him trying to chase after the Baby or the Baby herself spending an inordinate amount of time admiring his prosthetic leg. I can see them making trips to Braum's and ordering the most decadent dessert on the menu, despite the doctor's orders and him sneaking in spoonfuls to the Baby, despite the parents' orders.

I can only imagine if his stories and memories are anywhere near as crazy and outlandish as his wife's. Or if he is just as opinionated and adamant about how we raise our child.

I think about the fact that, despite our non-existent relationship, we were very similar in terms of our personality. Both of us love the same foods. Both of us are fully aware of the negatives of said foods yet we still keep on truckin'. We're both a little quick to get angry and a little slow in forgiving. We both love sports yet we know there are things that have to be sacrificed for the sake of the family. We both have fantastic ideas, he just happened to be a little more proactive in putting those ideas into production. And lastly, we both have an insane amount of love for his daughter.

I still vividly remember the night he was admitted into the ER; it was the same night my mother passed away. It was the same hospital (I couldn't make this up even if I tried). I can still see the Wifey talking with the ER doctor, trying to figure everything out.

Doctor: Well, the state that your father came in, he should be dead.
Wifey:   So he isn't dead?
Doctor: According to these tests, there is no way he's still alive.
Wifey:   So he's alive?

And then the Wifey went to work trying to get a hold of her mom and her brother and still trying to support me as I was mourning the loss of my mom. She stayed headstrong as we went back and forth from the ER to the ICU.

As much as I would want the Wifey's father or my own mother to be here with the Baby, and I hate to be so cliche, but I guess everything happens for a reason. Maybe the Baby needed two sets of eyes to watch over her as she has now figured out how to climb everything in sight.

Whatever the case may be, at least I know how to pull her good for nothing boyfriend into the garage for a good old fashioned scolding.


  1. You're such a good hubby.
    You can bet your ass that your mom and your wifey's dad are looking out for all three of you.

  2. loved this. jerry was a great guy. i still have one of his alien shirts! <3

  3. Great post, Jackson. I can't believe that you both had to go through such horrible losses at such early ages. At least you have each other to lean on:)