The other
day, I was talking with my 10 year old son about my childhood. He is getting
more mature. The nuances of life make him ask questions about my life and our ancestors.
He asked about when I was 10 years old like him. “Where did you live? What
did you do every day? Who were your friends? What were your interests?”
He does have
some information, but now he genuinely wants to know.
During the
drive, I drove him past my dad’s mobile home.
“Your dad
lived there?” he said surprised.
“Yup,” I replied.
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| Mark and Stan Dunham! New Mobile Home in 1971 |
When I was 8 years old, my parents got divorced. We were in Twin Falls, Idaho,
but my dad moved to Boise after that because he get a job promotion. Your
Grandma remarried and we lived in Twin Falls. However, my dad bought a mobile
home. At the point, that was all he could afford.”
My son
asked, “Did you see your dad much.”
I said, “After
the divorce, I actually had a much closer relationship this my dad. I did not
really know him because he worked all of the time. After the divorce and when Dad
moved to Boise, I spent weekends with him a lot. I would ride the bus from Twin
Falls to Boise. During the summer, I would spend several weeks in Boise with
Dad even the he was working.”
“Wow!” our
son exclaimed. “When you were alone, what did you do? Were you scared?”
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| Twin Falls, ID Bus Depot |
I laughed
and said, “Well, there was no cable TV so I could watch three channels on a
black and white TV. Or I read. A lot! During bus rides and when Dad was
working, I read the ‘Hardy Boys.’ I also drew a lot. I would draw alien worlds
or cityscapes. I could
not go outside because of safety.”
Our son
asked about “What did you eat? Could you use the microwave?”
I laughed
again! “Hmmmm. No! When I was a kid, no
one had microwaves. The stone age!”
Incredulous,
he asked, “What did you eat?”
I smiled. “I
learned to cook when I pretty small. Not just soup. Full blown dinners. I would
make dinner for Dad! I loved to cook. Even now. After the strokes, I was so
upset anyway, but I dismayed that I believed I could never cook again.”
He asked, “Where
you lonely?”
“Good
question,” I said. “Maybe? But I did not think about it. This was my life. I
grew up really fast, but I am grateful. I had a sense of independence because I
had responsibilities young in life. I did not know any difference.”
Our son
raised his eyebrows and said, “Mmmm. Wow.” And then he changed the subject.
I love that
my son and I talk about mature things. Because of my strokes, he has grown up
too fast also like me. I am proud of him. Sometimes I sense that he is also lonely
like I was. He is funny, smart, and gregarious. But, sometimes when I watch
him, I see him looking off in the distance. Sometimes he seems distant. Wonder what he in thinking? What
will be his future given his parents and my medical issues?
In an old
blog post, I referenced a comment about me. When I was 24 four years old, I friend
of mine said “You have an old soul.” I am concerned that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree.
When my dad was dying, in the
hospital, Dad said, “I worked too much. I thought that providing for my family
was just making a good living. I realized later, being a good dad was not just
about the money. It was being present. If you ever have a son, Mark, please be
involved in every way.”
I think of my dad every day. When
my son and I have discussions like my dad living in a “trailer,” I am happy
that my dad and I became close in that 60' x 12' trailer.
Yes, I grew up fast like my son: “Like father, like son.” Yet, I am thankful that
my dad and I had such a special relationship where we talked about everything
in our shared lives. Hope my relationship with my son will grow like with my
dad and me.
I think my strokes were a
blessing disguise. I am a stay at home dad now. My dad would be proud.
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