About a week ago I got a comment on a post that I found really interesting. Someone had stumbled across the blog and recognized my last name. It seems she used to work for my Dad when he owned the “ Head Shop” in Wyandotte when I was young. She said that Dad had given her a job at a tough time in her life and had made her feel safe. It was really a very nice comment and an even nicer thing to say about Dad. I called Dad and told him about it. He didn’t remember her by name but said it felt really good to hear the comment and that he had helped a number of kids back then. It also brought a number of conflicting thoughts into my head.
The first being the question of why not me? Why did he find it so easy to become so emotionally involved in some complete strangers life yet couldn’t tell you the date of any of his kid’s birthdays? I know, it is what it is and nothing can ever change that. I do, however, find myself getting these feelings of jealousy whenever anyone tells me about what a great guy he was. It’s really something to hear others talk about him like that. I have no doubt that Dad was a hero to many a scared kid that would happen upon the “Shake Shop”, that was the name of the store he had back then. It’s a very positive thing for him to be remembered like that. As I’ve said, there are probably numerous “kids” that recall him in a fond manner. It does, however, just go to help explain what I’ve said so many times before.
The relationship he had with these kids was plastic. It made it easy for him to shine. The woman who wrote the note about him said that those that hung around the store never knew him outside the “Shake Shop” and I think she, and anyone else in her position at the time, believe the man they knew to be different in his “personal” life. The sad thing is that she’s probably right. He was very different at home. He simply wasn’t there emotionally. It’s so strange to think that the things he could give to these total strangers so easily, were unavailable to his family. I know my brothers and sister would have gladly taken that plastic Phil that others were afforded but it wasn’t an option. We had the Dad we had and that’s what we have to live with. So be it.
If I were to talk to Dad today about any of this, he wouldn’t get it. I’m totally convinced that he thinks he was the same at home as he was at the shop. That he was the cool guy that made us feel safe just like the woman who wrote the note felt. Ok, let him believe it. There really is nothing to be gained from trying to hurt him. I know that he got the warm and fuzzies just hearing what this woman said about him and that’s a good thing. I don’t think I would have told him if she had said anything disparaging. There just wouldn’t be any point to it. He feels good about what I told him and I think I’ll just leave it at that. I feel good when I write about it so I’ll also leave it at that.
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