Sunday, March 6, 2022

"What Would We Do WIthout Fathers? " A Poem by Maria Whittaker

"What Would We Do WIthout Fathers?"

by

Maria Whittaker




What would we do without fathers? 


Who would throw us up in the air and catch us?

Wink at us?


Drive us places?


Let us ride on their backs?


Cook spaghetti 4 us when we were sick?



Tell us stories while we were sitting in the car waiting

for mom to come from the Doctor’s office:

---Riki Tikki Tavi, the mongoose

---how he and his best friend “Junior’ who lived

across Chapel Street from him in the Bottoms all his

life got paddled at school.


Take care of us when our birth father abandoned us?


Love us unconditionally? 


Accept us completely the way we are?


Protect us?


Let us go out on dates at 14 without my mother

knowing? 


Let our ‘dates’ into the house?


Not tell our mothers when we got in the car and

traveled alone around the country, camping out? 


Save our lives?


Pick us up from the airport on our first trip home

after going away to college? 


Jump my car when I left  it parked somewhere with

the lights on without even telling me?


Repay me the $400 cash I loaned him without

knowing what it was for?


Give me a brother so I would not have to grow

up alone?  


Only ask for money once?


Introduce me to his girlfriend when he was still married

and living with my mother, so I would understand that

sometimes everything is necessary?


Take care of me?


Take care of my ill mother 4 me?


Teach me how 2 be?


Show me how to be?


Bring letters to me from my boyfriend in the army

secreted in the trunk of his car so my mother would

not find and destroy them? 


Take me and my brother when I was 9 and he was

8 and all our little “kid” friends in his car up and down

the steep and roller coaster hills of Blendon Woods,

where we laughed and giggled until we couldn’t

anymore?


Promise to take us to Canada!

“We’re going to Canada kids!” He would go faster

and faster and the car would jump off the

viaduct and surely we felt as if we must have

flown to Canada in that moment of laughter,

giggles and pure happiness?


Drive me and pick me up from ice skating lessons,

my dream, every day in the summer of 1974?


Never get mad at me at 15 for “stealing” his car

at night with my brother and teenage lifelong friends.

He just took the alternator out! We only discovered

it after we had pushed the car out of the parking

lot under his bedroom window, and down the driveway

so he would not hear us start it. (His bedroom window

was right above where he parked the car  and it was

open because it was summer. We, my brother and I

and some of our lifelong teenage neighbors/friends

had to push the car back up the driveway (up a hill)

and back into a parking lot, under his window!)


Be imperfect, flawed so I would learn how to understand

and love people the way they were so they could

grow and heal. 


Let me take love 4 granted.


Fall in love with men, masculinity.


Have a family, cousins, grandmother, aunts, uncles and

neighbors.


Have a connection to the past.


Take us to ‘the plant,” the B&T Metals Company, where

he worked all his life and show us all the tools, machines,

locker room, big equipment, and pin up poster still there

from World II. 


Drive me to swimming practice every day and two times

a day in the summer.


Pick me up from swimming practice.


Let me go on dates.

Take me on dates with my “little boyfriend.”


Do all the housework and complain about it for years

until you finally told him “Thank you” and that you were

sorry for his suffering and he simply replied. “It weren’t

nothing.”


“Manipulated you so you’d know when you were being

manipulated in the future.”


Teach you what love is.


Be so present for you when he was alive, he was always

with you after he died, so you would know death and

everything is a mere illusion. 


Be your rock.


Show me how to be my own rock, all without words.


Be present in me after the death of his physical body. 


Love dogs.


Take care of “your dog.”


Beeeee soooooo much fun!


Beee laid back.


Make homemade spaghetti. 


Take you to his local bar, the Tippin’ Inn, when you were

a child with him and let you overhear him tell the

bartender to tell his wife, my mother,  who was calling,

“I’m not here.” 


Get drunk with you present and say stupid things

so you would know noone is perfect and what real is. 


Be sexually inappropriate when he was unconscious

and drunk, so you could know trauma only endures

when there is not enough love to dissolve it.


Take you and your “little brother” fishing at Madison

Lake and Nelson Park and know nothing about it.


Visit and clean your studio apartment when you were

a graduate student at a big, fancy, top three law school

in the US and think nothing of it.


Drive you to a prospective law school to visit your

step grandfather who married your grandmother, your

mother’s birth mom, from whom your mom had been

tragically kidnapped at 2 days old by a great aunt. 


Beee ridiculous.


Bee absurd.


Beee humble, so when you grew up, you would know

and remember what it meant not to have an ego and

what “Godliness” was.


Be there so when you grew up you would know what

gratitude was.


Beee there sew U could take having a father 4 granted.


Beee there so you could smell his aftershave and go to

the barbershop with him on Saturday mornings on

Mt. Vernon Avenue in the middle of Columbus’s Black

neighborhood.


Beee there so you could know what it meant to have a

good man in your life.


Beee there so you could know what it was like to have

a crush on a man.


Be there so you did not have 2 worry.


Be there so U could know what peace meant.


Be there so you could take sacrifice 4 granted.


Be there sew u could know what it was like to be

taken care of and loved, not perfectly, but imperfectly.


Be there so you would never ever know what it was like

to be alone even after he died.


What would we do without fathers?



Copyright Notice

This work is distributed under the Creative Commons License.

In brief, you may make and distribute copies of the work herein so  long as you give the original author credit, and if you alter, transform or build upon this work, you distribute this work only under a license identical to this one. 

 

The author of this work is Maria C. Whittaker and Spiritual Agroecology: Human Spiritual Growth through Agroecology and Beyond, http://fssg.blogspot.com/, a 501(c) (3) nonprofit founded by Maria C. Whittaker under the laws of Kansas, USA.

 

The official name of this nonprofit is the Ohio Chapter of Family Farm Defenders. Family Farm Defenders is a national 501(c)(3) in the USA, founded by the amazing John Kinsman, a family farmer who led the work to raise awareness of the nature of the Family Farm as a critical and important  way of life, and a healthy and sustainable way to produce human food. https://familyfarmers.org/

 

Family Farm Defenders is located in Madison, Wisconsin and advocates for the Family Farm!

 

For the rest of the details of the license, see http://creativecommons.org./licenses/by-sa/2.0/legalcode

 

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