My dad had seven children with three wives. I am still getting to know the younger ones, who live in another county. One was an athlete in college, and she was the apple of daddy’s eye. He had always wanted a tennis player and with her, he got one.
Years after graduating from college, she wondered what to do with her life. She lived with her dad until his health took a drastic turn. She loved him so much that she hastened to move out, leaving the duties of caring for him to my brother, who took a three month sabbatical from his job in a city up north.
Sometimes when I was visiting my dad, she would arrive for a visit. She would prance around for him like a palace courtesan before a king. As she explained to the other exhausted siblings, “I give him joy!”
When our dad got weaker and needed help paying his bills. she conducted whispered meetings with him at his bedside, accusing various family members of stealing from his wallet and even stealing his medication. Poor girl. That’s what love is, isn’t it? She was just trying to protect him!
Now that my dad is gone, I still don’t know what makes this girl tick. I like how she manages to avoid getting a job, because that has been my lifelong dream as well. (See Office Space.)
I love her blog, which is a tribute to hippies, many of them nude in a forest or commune or something. You can scroll and scroll, losing yourself in peace signs, long stringy hair and little proverbs about karma and creativity.
Creativity: I wish I had more, don’t you? Then no one would know that I’ve removed the camera-shy siblings from the photo above. Maybe my dad wouldn’t mind the extra hands and feet in this photo. I know he would criticize my hair. If only he’d lived long enough to see my silky keratin treatment.
Anyway, now she has assumed control of our dad’s trust. It’s nice to know it’s in such competent hands. Stay tuned for Part II.
