Father's Day

This father's day, as I contemplate my relationships with my father and my dad, my husband, and the myriad of other relationships I have at present, I realize that what I want most from my relationships is the ability for me to stay present and be me, regardless of what I feel the other person expects of me. I love my husband, but there are still ways, after 12 years together, that he expects me to be something I am not comfortable being, and ways that we pull away from eachother, when the intimacy of daily life together is too much. I still have a private self, and I don't think that's a bad thing. I like that I still maintain my own identity, and that I don't feel lost in the 'us'.
Not too long ago, I had a discussion with a friend about our relationship, and about how people are whole without someone else. I can agree with that, but I also believe that there are souls in our journey who mean a tremendous amount to us, and who really give our human existence meaning. I know that I would continue to live without these people who are so dear to me, but what would life be like? I can barely contemplate life without my kids, without my best friends, without my beloved. In many ways, my happiness depends on them.
It doesn't make me less whole; on the contrary I think it makes me more real, and more whole, this feeling of dependence on other people. It is a risk, reaching out to other human beings. It's risky to stake our claim on love, happiness and friendship. At any moment, the ones we love and value the most can leave us, and our heartache would be very great. The safest route, then, lies in not loving, not reaching out, not being vulnerable. Unfortunately, it is a trap where many timid souls spend their existence, for therein lies also isolation and loneliness.
I think about my father, and our lack of relationship over the years, and how I imagined him to be as a child. I think of the feelings I had meeting him at 32 years old, married, and a parent myself. I was awed by our physical similarities. I was humbled by my children's good fortune, feeling certain that their father would never leave them. I felt indignant at his presumption that I would take his advice, after a lifetime of absence. I felt relief after years of wondering who and where he was, and how it related to me.
I think about my dad, the man who adopted me in his absence, who raised me, who kept me fed and clothed, kept a roof over my head and taught me about work ethic. I remember all the times he took me fishing, camping, and out to play baseball in the yard. I remember him working on the cars, and sitting across from me at the dinner table. Lying stretched out on the sofa, watching tv, and how hard it was to get his attention when he was engrossed in it. I remember years where there was nothing but discord between us. The years afterward, when we became amiable again. The years where I was actually grateful for him. Times when he stuck up for me and the choices I made. When he helped me buy my first car, and told the dealership they had to give me a 3 month warranty, which didn't sound that great until the head cracked after I had only had it a month or so. Or the times he helped me fix it and all the other beaters I had in my 20's. Our relationship has been turbulent at times, but ultimately, has proven to be a thing of stability over the long run.
My husband. The man I've given myself to in complete trust. The man with whom I've created a new life, far removed from the life of my childhood. John, who has seen me through natural childbirth three times. Who has given me back parts of myself I had lost touch with, or forgotten. He has shown me parts of myself I had never seen before. He has partnered with me in showing our children love, discipline, faith and family. We've taken roadtrips, we've moved cross-country, we've filed bankruptcy and been through the aftermath of it. We've seen our oldest daughter through the onset of puberty, multi-colored hair and the beginning of her finding whatever relationships will see her through her own journey.
I've been very lucky in that aspect of my life. My relationships, whether short, long or lifelong have been very satisfying, and have taught me much. I will go to the end of my life knowing that I have loved to the limits of my capacity, I've been loved and accepted for myself. What more can we ask for?