He’s at work again. Sigh!
For someone who isn’t the ambitious sort, he seems to spend an awful amount of time working.
“When will Appa come home?” the children ask their mother.
“I don’t know,” she says, hoping he’ll walk in the door any second, drop his laptop bag and scoop the children in a bear hug.
I wish he could see their faces as they wait for him. The television screen is reflected in their eyes, but their ears strain to catch the familiar drone of the garage door opening.
He probably has no idea he means the world to them and to the woman he married. She rarely shows it, but she lives for the moment he walks in the door, drops his car keys in the drawer and lets her bury her face in his chest.
The palpable excitement in the house when his car pulls in takes her back to her own childhood, when she and her brother would race to open the gates in the evenings and herald their father’s arrival.
“Appa, appa,” they would shout, dancing a jig around him, waiting to see what he had bought them, for he never returned home without a treat.
Funnily, all these years later, it’s not the treats that linger in her memory. Instead, she remembers crossing her fingers behind her back, hoping against hope her father would stay home instead of speeding off to the local club to play billiards with his friends as he did every evening.
Her children show signs of impatience now. The little one needlessly picks a fight with her brother. “Appa said 8 o’ clock, but he still isn’t here,” says her son at 8:15 p.m., wanting to follow-up with a phone call.
With an eye on the ticking clock, she tends to her children and watches her husband's dinner grow cold. She desperately wants to tell him to pay no heed to the cliché about spending quality time with the ones you love.
Because to this family, quantity is what counts for now.
17 comments:
This reminds me of the scenarios at our place 5 years ago. Late hours, and the kids almost never really saw their dad for days together.
It's a phase. It should pass. :)
Our dad used to get my siater and I, 5 star bars. Everytime he went on a trip which was every couple of weeks.
5 years ago? So you had K3 after this phase? Hmmm, that gives one hope :)
Rads, mmmm, my dad used to bring five star bars for me and my brother every Sunday morning.
Ter, I'm sure Dad must really look forward to the evenings when he walks in to such a warm welcome. And I'm sure he knows how lucky he is -- right, Dad?
muser, as a dog I give him the warmest welcome. Mom feels like panting like a puppy when she sees him, but for some strange reason restrains herself.
It's such a part of our lives- waiting for The Guy to come home. When my kids were young they'd usually meet their dad only on Sundays. I still seem to spend a lot of my life waiting for him- guess its
become a regular part of life for many of us.
dipali, it sounds as though you'd need to wait until his retirement. But then he might get under your skin by disrupting your well-oiled routine.
There was a time before cell phones, when I would get agitated if he returned even 15 minutes late. I was almost in tears one day, and since then he would always let me know what time to expect him. Deep rooted fears, resulting from my dad's death. Funny, it seems a long time ago, a different age altogether ;-)
Now it is more about will he be on time to take the girls for their activities.
Awwww! It is probably just a project. This, too, shall pass. Give mom a hug from me.
Does dad know, Terri? Perhaps mom should gently hint, like perhaps throwing the frying pan at him when he enters?
lakshmi:
"Perhaps mom should gently hint, like perhaps throwing the frying pan at him when he enters?"
i humbly disagree ;-).
while there is probably a time and place for each action, for this particular one, the time is probably when dad is about to leave, not when he is about to enter. else, he will be too scared to enter!
slightly o.t.: in women and money, suze orman has an anecdote on how indian women clean the entrance to the household every morning, so lakshmi has a obstacle-free entrance.
- s.b.
s.b., Lakshmi, good suggestion. Either way he would get a frying pan tossed at him. The only problem is we don't even see him long enough to take aim.
gtn, can't help think that maybe if his family were a 'project' also, they'd get the same dedicated treatment.
munimma, how do you get out of driving kids to their activities and spending time with yourself? We want to know!
Awww Terr-why don't you hang on to his legs with your paws or something. Has dad been doing this a long time or is it a phase? I hope you're bestowing lots of licks on mom to make her feel better.
mg, it's a phase that I hope doesn't become a habit. Hence the need to nip it in the bud.
My dad discovered it too late. So I did my best to not have V make the same mistake.
V cannot manage time to save his life, but yes, he got to spend the precious first year at home with his son. Much, much more than any other father I know got.
Forget the frying pan ... ask Dad to get some methi on the way home.
Lovely post Terri - I didn't know that mom was such a romantic person. There is a soft, lovable person inside that hard facade that she puts on.
Well I give dad and mom the best welcome too, and none come home without a treat for me and my daughter.
-PP
@s.b. - I love Suze Orman's show and watch it when possible even though it is telecast in the early hours of the day in India.
-Visitor
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