Like Father, Like Daughter

I realized long ago that I am a lot like my father. It was a difficult realization that was a long time coming, as my father and I have often butted heads, with horns stubbornly locked, leaving us at an impasse.

I would love to sit here and describe to you all of the good points about my father that I have inherited: his sense of humor, his wit, his intelligence. It would certainly be revealing to point to his (and my) less endearing traits: his stubbornness, his arrogance, his temper. But today I was reminded of how similar we are on a seemingly neutral trait (depending on what you do with it): disappointment.

For those of you who don’t know, I am essentially living with Faith right now. (Well, technically, she’s living with me, but what’s the difference?) All in all, it’s gone amazingly well. For two weeks now, we’ve been sharing a small one bedroom hotel suite. And it’s been quite the two weeks, I assure you. Last week, I discovered not only that my beloved cat had been missing for a full week already (still nothing, by the way) but also that another beloved cat had passed away. Therefore, I was a bit emotional. Not to mention that I started bleeding and had quite possibly the worst cramps I’ve ever experienced. Last weekend, we chose to take the 6-7 hour drive (one way) up to Denver to do laundry, relax, meet more of her friends, see some of my friends, and attend a women’s music festival. That’s a long way to drive with only one non-driving day in between. This week, our hours have been the following: Monday – 12 hours, Tuesday – 12 hours, Wednesday – 11 hours, and today, Thursday – Faith is apparently going to hit and possibly surpass 11 hours, while I stopped at 9 hours and have so far composed a lengthy e-mail, completed a full internet search for Mr. Henry-Pants, and downed a beer. Needless to say, we’re tired. And I, in particular, have experienced some not-so-subtle feelings of crankiness.

Today, I was in a good mood. I interviewed 16 people yesterday and 14 people today. That’s a productive girl. Midway through my day, I was thinking about Faith. I was thinking about how wonderful she is and how I wanted to be with her tonight. I couldn’t wait to see her again and to spend more time with her. (How cheesy have I become in my old age?) I even came home twice during my day hoping that she would be here and that I would get to smile at her and sit in her presence for a bit. I cleaned the kitchen and thought about dinner. And then I realized it was time to head for my 4:30 PM appointment 20 miles east of Albuquerque. Just as I was heading out the door, I got a text message from Faith asking if I wanted to carpool to the very location I was headed. I called immediately to say that I absolutely DID want to carpool. And when I got her on the phone, she got practical. As soon as she answered, I exited off the freeway to try to meet her somewhere. But her practicality (and both of our unfamiliarity with this town) led to the decision that we should just go separately.

I was upset. I was really really upset. So upset, in fact, that I told her I needed to get off the phone with her and I couldn’t turn on my music for the rest of my drive because I was upset.

The silence allowed for a good deal of reflection. WTF, right? I couldn’t figure out what had made me SO upset. It wasn’t insecurity, because I know that she wants to spend as much time with me as I with her. (And, after all, she had been the one to suggest the carpool originally.) It wasn’t anger, as neither of us had done anything wrong or hurtful or stupid. All of a sudden, I realized that it was disappointment. I just wanted to see her and, for a minute, it seemed like I was going to. So when it wasn’t going to happen, I got upset.

I remember riding in the car on the way home from something or other when I was much younger. We happened to be somewhere near our favorite ice cream shop and my sister and I, recognizing this from the back seat, immediately started pleading with our parents to take us there. Our father suddenly became very upset and ultimately drove right past the ice cream shop without stopping. We didn’t understand – our pleading wasn’t overboard and we had been good all day. Come to find out, my dad had intended on stopping for ice cream the whole time. He wanted it to be a surprise and he was disappointed when we ruined the surprise by asking for the treat.

I have many stories about my dad’s disappointments. Many are just minor disappointments like the ice cream incident, but some are more serious and affect him deeply. I have seen him be disappointed in his churches, in his congregants, in his friends, and in his family. I have watched him experience disappointment in himself and I have experienced my own variety of this disappointment for much of my life.

I have recognized that my own disappointments come from my high expectations – reasonable or otherwise – and I know my father’s are a result of the same. I believe we are optimists, he and I, and that – almost by definition – leads to some disappointment along the line. Even knowing this, however, doesn’t make it less interesting to me to see myself follow his example of how to deal with disappointment. I was fascinated by the fact that, rather than be joyful in the original invitation and realistic about the ultimate impracticality of the suggestion, I closed down – got mad at her even – and felt incredible disappointment at the reality of the situation.

It’s always amusing when I see my father in myself. Partly, it makes things make sense – I can see my past in my present and I know where I come from. Partly, it makes me feel closer to my dad – I can better understand why he does the things he does and where he’s coming from. And partly, it makes me recognize where I want to go – I get to choose which aspects I want to keep and which I might want to let go.

It truly is remarkable what we can learn from our parents – if only we allow them to teach us.