My father never showed much emotion nor affection towards any of us. He never appeared to get overly excited nor upset either although I will give him the benefit of the doubt that he wanted to express himself more; he just didn't know how to. One small way that he did was through high fives. If we passed each other in the catacomb like hallways of our tiny home on Long Island I could count on his hand coming out for a fiver. Those fleeting moments after those high fives the only times during my childhood that I remember a solid, warm feeling of everything being alright with the world.
My father's "chair", I called it "The Archie Bunker", sat in the living room just on the other side of the doorway to the room far, far away from our massive 19 inch, color! TV. When I'd sit in his chair I'd get a sense that his chair and its position in the room was not so much a throne but a guard position. From that chair my father, or anyone for that matter who sat in it able to see anyone who entered and who left the room at all times. My father sublimely seeking power. Halt. Who goes there.
Growing up in the emotional quagmire that was that Irish Catholic household, more often than not, it was the little signs like the high fives that indicated to me whether or not I was in the dog house or not. So, if that hand came out you slapped it hard because you knew that everything was as alright as it possibly could be. When I would leave that room with my father sitting in his chair I could count on his right hand being extended and that powerful, unspoken, "put it here".
Growing up in the emotional quagmire that was that Irish Catholic household, more often than not, it was the little signs like the high fives that indicated to me whether or not I was in the dog house or not. So, if that hand came out you slapped it hard because you knew that everything was as alright as it possibly could be. When I would leave that room with my father sitting in his chair I could count on his right hand being extended and that powerful, unspoken, "put it here".
My wife and I enjoy a very close relationship with our two teenage boys. We're very proud of them and the strong young men they've grown into. I have no doubt they will do well in whatever they choose to do with their lives both personally and professionally. That said though, there's always opportunities for affection.
In our home in Cleveland our den has a chair next to the entrance to it. I rarely sit there but our younger son, who's 14, has taken up permanent residence in it. That's his chair. It's easy to see why. It's got the best view of our massive 46 inch TV. More importantly, it gives him the ideal position to put out his hand out for me to high five whenever I pass by him which he does every time.
In our home in Cleveland our den has a chair next to the entrance to it. I rarely sit there but our younger son, who's 14, has taken up permanent residence in it. That's his chair. It's easy to see why. It's got the best view of our massive 46 inch TV. More importantly, it gives him the ideal position to put out his hand out for me to high five whenever I pass by him which he does every time.
All's right with the world.
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