Tuesday 23 February 2010

As best we could


Rusty arrived in London out of the blue yesterday. We met for a beer in the Cow. Meeting for beer in a pub is a British habit I am adapting to well.

We got to talking about our childhood; Rusty told me this tale:

'I never did have a successful childhood. I never had a successful relationship with my father. He was a bully and a tyrant. I could never be good enough, I always let him down, I underachieved, I rebelled.

I walked away in my teens. I survived as best could.

Until, in my 40's I visited him with my sons. We made attempts at conversation. As best we could.

Then, one sunbright afternoon, as we sat in the garden watching my young sons play he said: "I envy you son. You have a relationship with your children that I never had with mine".

He died shortly after that.

But we had made our peace.

As best we could'.

1 comment:

headsknowbest said...

Tristan, you may be 'lucky', I'm not sure. He wouldn't even talk to me and threatened me with solicitors if I should ever write to him again. In retrospect I guess once was enough for all concerned. For some prodigal moments there are, thankfully, no models. Just remnant small enigmas,dilemmas at the doctor's behest, finally settled with a death certificate that tells it all. Soul searching superseded by glances in the mirror as the years pile up; there is more than a resemblance but let's hope no semblance of destiny in that.