Important for a Son to Know
December 2001, Vermont
By L.kenyon
About five years ago my mom and dad ended a 33-year marriage. It didn’t go so hot, but when does it? Not that I would know; I remember breakups in high school with girls I didn’t even like let alone love that tore my goddamned heart into my throat - I can only imagine, though can’t pretend to understand, the swell of the hearts in their own.
That’s not what I wanted to say.
They broke up. Mom moved in with my grandfather. And then soon, Christmas.
They decided to try and have it together, as a family.
I admire their love for us. They tried.
A girl whom I lived with at the time though didn’t love, and for that I’m sorry, dropped me off in the stone driveway early that morning. It was cold enough outside to see your breath freeze, but it was Vermont.
My two teenage brothers were already there (a giant and welcomed surprise really; stoners), and they sat cranky and tired on the sofa chairs while my mother and father were in the kitchen making coffee, gypsy bread, and pretend.
I lay on the couch near the tree and watched my brothers from across the coffee table. They didn’t have too much to say, and from the kitchen only the sounds of dishes and careful avoidance came. But it was only 7 in the morning.
Before we ate and opened gifts, my dad sneaked into the living room and handed the three of us our Christmas cards, and when we’d taken them, he slipped back into the kitchen like Saint Nick.
I set the envelope in my lap and slid the card out. On the front was a reminder in gold cursive that Christmas is also the celebration of the birth of Christ - I don’t think my brother Jon had enough forehead to roll his eyes into.
I opened it and read – “I think it’s important for a son to know his father’s mind.”
And in his perfect handwriting my father wrote of qualities he saw in his boy that I never knew he saw at all, and even of a few his boy hadn’t, either.
I did my best, but a few tears fell anyway and the lump grew. And when after only a glance I’d put the card away to read later in privacy, I saw that my brothers were crying too.
L.kenyon is from Vermont where trees grow. Now he lives in New York, with concrete skylines and a pet television set.
Posted by Elizabeth Armstrong Moore on Monday, December 18th, 2006 | Email This PostThis entry was posted on Monday, December 18th, 2006 at 12:04 am. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
11 Responses to “Important for a Son to Know”
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December 18th, 2006 at 10:49 pm
AS A PARENT MYSELF I REALIZE THAT CHILDREN LOOK AT THEIR PARENTS IN A DIFFERENT LIGHT. CHILDREN THINK THEY DO AND FILL ONE THING, LIKE YOU SAID YOU DID NOT LOVE OR LIKE THIS GIRL YOU WERE WITH. WELL BEING MARRIED FOR 30 YRS. DATING THE SAME GUY IN HIGH SCHOOL, THAT I MARRIED. YEARS CHANGE PEOPLE, INTEREST CHANGE, SOMETIME YOU REALIZE THAT YOU NEVER HAD ANYTHING IN COMMON BUT LUST. BUT IF KIDS ARE INVOLVED YOU WILL DO ANYTHING FOR THEM.
THAT WAS GREAT THAT YOUR DAD GAVE YOU THAT CARD. DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY SON’S WILL NEVER KNOW THOSE THINGS YOUR DAD SHARED W/U.
December 19th, 2006 at 8:39 am
Wonderful! This is a Christmas you will never forget, a Christmas when you learned who your father was and what he was about. Merry Christmas!
December 19th, 2006 at 12:12 pm
A very good story on the unspoken reality of divorce from the perspective of an older sibling. The miracle of words that are passed down from father to son…..how powerful, how uplifting, how priceless, how lucky.
December 19th, 2006 at 12:18 pm
funny how people can surprise you when you least expect it.
December 19th, 2006 at 5:52 pm
Great Story!!
Parents aren’t perfect but they sometimes show you a side you never knew was there.
December 19th, 2006 at 7:42 pm
This reminds me a lot of a story about my own father. Thank you for putting into words what so many of us have experienced in our own ways.
December 19th, 2006 at 9:03 pm
This is like a christmas card story and should be read on NPR for a driveway moment. Nice work!
December 20th, 2006 at 8:37 am
I never get tired of reading your stories…I’m waiting for the book Lenny and I want an autographed copy
December 21st, 2006 at 10:27 pm
Beautifully written, like always. I feel as tho I was there, you covered every inch of detail! Have a Merry Christmas Lenny (((hugs)))
December 22nd, 2006 at 10:23 am
What an incredible writer’s voice you have — raw, real, riveting. Your piece reminded me that love is perhaps sweetest when you least expect it, when your guard is up and your hope is down — an especially important reminder in the holiday season, with all its great expectations, dashed dreams and Bing Crosby crooning “White Christmas.” GREAT WORK!
December 23rd, 2006 at 7:52 pm
What a rare gift your father gave. I wonder how many of us ever even think to ask what is in our father’s mind? Most of us would be surprised. I’m glad you were open to receive the gift.