It seems appropriate on this Father’s Day to talk about relationships. Both the novel by Anne Tyler and Lori Gottlieb’s book about therapy say something about parent-child relationships, our most important first relationships. I’ve also included some snippets about my own father whom I still miss after forty plus years.
READING UPDATE
Clock Dance by Anne Tyler
I set this book aside last year. The reviews were mixed, and I wasn’t in the mood for Baltimore. I didn’t want to be disappointed in this novel, but even though I finished it, I was. Willa Drake, a child of the late 60’s, drops out of college to get married and gives up her goals to marry the somewhat controlling Derek. When he dies and leaves her a young widow, she has two sons to raise and along the way acquires a second husband, Peter, about whose background we learn little. When a neighbor of her son’s girlfriend in Baltimore (Willa now lives in Phoenix) calls and asks her help in taking care of an 11-year old girl since the former girlfriend is in the hospital, Willa accepts. The assorted neighbors are a motley crew of typical Anne Tyler folks with eccentricities and Willa gets to know them all. One might say that Willa gains perspective on herself and her life through her time back east, but I didn’t find her a particularly compelling character or that she underwent much of a transformation. And I wasn’t fond of the neighborhood cast of characters which perhaps some readers might find more lovable than I did. (~JWFarrington)
Maybe You Should Talk to Someone by Lori Gottlieb
Psychotherapist Gottlieb’s book is fascinating. Whether you’ve ever seen a therapist, are sure you’re not a candidate for therapy, or something in between, it’s worth your time. Gottlieb is bold, frank, and occasionally funny as she relates her sessions with several patients over the course of a year or so. They range in age from 40-year old TV producer John who thinks everyone else is an idiot, Rita who’s approaching 70 and so unhappy she’s contemplating suicide, 25-year old Charlotte who has alcohol and attachment issues, and Julie, who in her early 30’s has terminal cancer. As readers, you get to know these people and are able to eavesdrop on how Gottlieb supports them and prods them to overcome troublesome behaviors.
But what is extraordinary about this book is the degree to which Gottlieb shares in detail her own sessions with Wendell, her therapist. She’s been left by the man she was planning to marry and going to therapy helps her deal with the breakup and with other issues in her life. She strips off the protective layers we all put on and reveals her own worries and concerns. If I were to see a therapist, I’d want it to be Wendell. While contemplating an appointment with him, this book is a delightful and thought-provoking journey through what makes us human. (~JWFarrington)
GLIMPSES OF DAD
My father was a family man with a broad smile and a sense of humor. In the 60’s, he became known to us kids as “Daddy-O” and even signed letters and notes that way. Not overtly gregarious, among friends and family he was both warm and kind.
He liked the fruits of summer. I can see him returning home from one of the scattered local farm stands bearing the first strawberries of June and in July, ears of fresh corn. The strawberries would be hulled and sliced with a smidge of sugar and ready to top strawberry shortcake. In our household, we served what I consider true shortcake—strawberries on my mother’s homemade biscuits. None of those sweet patty shells for us. As for the corn, it would be eaten on the cob, dripping with butter.
I’ve always thought Dad was ahead of his time. I know my mother thought so too. In an age when gender roles were more proscribed, he routinely dried the dinner dishes (pre-dishwasher age); was the weekend breakfast cook, think scrambled eggs and bacon or pancakes; and he made popcorn on the stove the old-fashioned way for Sunday suppers. More importantly, he spent lots of time playing Flinch, cribbage, and board games with my sisters and me. When my brother was old enough, they’d play catch in the backyard. Other fathers seemed more focused on their work lives.
In a family with four kids, parents have to spread their attention around, and often, the younger kids need it the most. I was the oldest, but I had the advantage of alone time with my father when he drove us to Syracuse for my frequent orthodontist appointments. The ride was about 45 minutes each way, so we had time for all sorts of conversation—-I relished having him to myself.
My father was one of my biggest supporters. I imagine my siblings felt similarly. I got the impression he thought I could do anything I put my mind to and that was a powerful message. He pushed me a bit, but in a good way, and once told me I was too soft, or as he phrased it, I needed to be “a bit more hard-bitten.” It’s a comment I’ve never forgotten and like to think it served me well at the right moments.
Sadly, Dad died at 48 when I was just 25. On this Father’s Day, I cherish these memories while simultaneously taking great joy in watching my son be a wonderful father to his own two daughters.
Note: Contents ©JWFarrington (some rights reserved).
