It’s Father’s Day. I usually don’t celebrate these special holidays
but all the social media posts about people’s dads makes me want to show
the world how cool my dad is also. To be fair, he isn’t someone I
would consider to be cool. For a long time, I had a hard time talking
about my dad because I never understood him. It took some reflecting for
me to begin to see him in a new way. I started this journey two
years ago when a simple blog post I was writing about photography turned
into a redemption of my memories of him. There are random memories I
have of my dad that seem meaningless yet these memories help me to see
my dad in new ways. Here is another moment I shared with my dad that has
become precious to me.
Learning How To Ride A Bike
I remember that one time when I chased an old man who stole my bike. No, it wasn't that dramatic but it did look something like that. Riding a bike was not an easy skill for me to learn. My past experiences with bikes involved a lot of blood and tears so I wasn't thrilled about it. When it was finally time for me to learn, I needed to overcome my fear of falling. It wasn’t Dad who taught me how to ride a bike, my siblings did. The only time he was ever involved was when he came outside to observe my efforts to learn. He watched me get on and fall down over and over again until he finally decided it was a good idea to show me how to do it. He picked up my bike and got on while I tried to push him off. I knew what I was doing and didn’t need him to show me. I protested but he didn’t care. He sped off on my bike as I chased him down the block in an attempt to stop him. Like a child, he laughed with joy, oblivious to the sound of my voice yelling at him. After a few houses down, out of breath, I gave up and returned home to wait for him.
I don’t remember what happened after he turned around and gave the bike back to me. I learned how to ride a bike whether my dad making me look like a fool had anything to do with it or not. That was never the point. When I think about this moment, one thing stands out to me. Dad laughed.
We know him as a man who spoke with a thunderous voice. He showed little emotion but his anger was fierce. This image of him as an old man enjoying a short bike ride while teasing his daughter gives new perspective to what kind of person he was. It's unclear what his intentions were but this is one of those rare occasions where I think Dad was simply playing with me.
Dad was always so serious but he was fun too...sometimes in a cruel way.
It’s Father’s Day. I usually don’t celebrate these special holidays
but all the social media posts about people’s dads makes me want to show
the world how cool my dad is also. To be fair, he isn’t someone I
would consider to be cool. For a long time, I had a hard time talking
about my dad because I never understood him. It took some reflecting for
me to begin to see him in a new way. I started this journey two
years ago when a simple blog post I was writing about photography turned
into a redemption of my memories of him. There are random memories I
have of my dad that seem meaningless yet these memories help me to see
my dad in new ways. Here is another moment I shared with my dad that has
become precious to me.Learning How To Ride A Bike
I remember that one time when I chased an old man who stole my bike. No, it wasn't that dramatic but it did look something like that. Riding a bike was not an easy skill for me to learn. My past experiences with bikes involved a lot of blood and tears so I wasn't thrilled about it. When it was finally time for me to learn, I needed to overcome my fear of falling. It wasn’t Dad who taught me how to ride a bike, my siblings did. The only time he was ever involved was when he came outside to observe my efforts to learn. He watched me get on and fall down over and over again until he finally decided it was a good idea to show me how to do it. He picked up my bike and got on while I tried to push him off. I knew what I was doing and didn’t need him to show me. I protested but he didn’t care. He sped off on my bike as I chased him down the block in an attempt to stop him. Like a child, he laughed with joy, oblivious to the sound of my voice yelling at him. After a few houses down, out of breath, I gave up and returned home to wait for him.
I don’t remember what happened after he turned around and gave the bike back to me. I learned how to ride a bike whether my dad making me look like a fool had anything to do with it or not. That was never the point. When I think about this moment, one thing stands out to me. Dad laughed.
We know him as a man who spoke with a thunderous voice. He showed little emotion but his anger was fierce. This image of him as an old man enjoying a short bike ride while teasing his daughter gives new perspective to what kind of person he was. It's unclear what his intentions were but this is one of those rare occasions where I think Dad was simply playing with me.
Dad was always so serious but he was fun too...sometimes in a cruel way.
 |
| August 2010 |
Learning How To Ride A Bike
I remember that one time when I chased an old man who stole my bike. No, it wasn't that dramatic but it did look something like that. Riding a bike was not an easy skill for me to learn. My past experiences with bikes involved a lot of blood and tears so I wasn't thrilled about it. When it was finally time for me to learn, I needed to overcome my fear of falling. It wasn’t Dad who taught me how to ride a bike, my siblings did. The only time he was ever involved was when he came outside to observe my efforts to learn. He watched me get on and fall down over and over again until he finally decided it was a good idea to show me how to do it. He picked up my bike and got on while I tried to push him off. I knew what I was doing and didn’t need him to show me. I protested but he didn’t care. He sped off on my bike as I chased him down the block in an attempt to stop him. Like a child, he laughed with joy, oblivious to the sound of my voice yelling at him. After a few houses down, out of breath, I gave up and returned home to wait for him.
I don’t remember what happened after he turned around and gave the bike back to me. I learned how to ride a bike whether my dad making me look like a fool had anything to do with it or not. That was never the point. When I think about this moment, one thing stands out to me. Dad laughed.
We know him as a man who spoke with a thunderous voice. He showed little emotion but his anger was fierce. This image of him as an old man enjoying a short bike ride while teasing his daughter gives new perspective to what kind of person he was. It's unclear what his intentions were but this is one of those rare occasions where I think Dad was simply playing with me.
Dad was always so serious but he was fun too...sometimes in a cruel way.
|
| August 2010 |
