You're Invisible Now, You've Got No Secrets to Conceal

I am not normally one for the sentimental posts that my generation now uses to commemorate their loved ones on holidays or birthdays. Whenever Mother's or Father's Day rolls around, my Facebook and Instagram feeds are inevitably filled with people posting pictures of themselves as babies with their younger parents with a caption thanking them for their existence. I don't think this is a hokey trend or anything, far from it, please show affection to your loved ones as much as you can, but it's that my family has never really gone for public displays of affection like that. Even though I love my parents and would feel strongly enough to post something like that, it's just kind of not my style. That might seem like a flimsy excuse, but the truth is as simple as that.

To go with family's disinclination for PDA's, we also aren't the type of family to say "I love you" a lot. This is not to say that we don't love each other. Quite the opposite, as every member of my family is very close. We all know that we love each other and we show it often, but we just don't say it. Is there a need for us to say it after we've already shown it? Maybe for others, but not for us.

It also seems to me like everyone who publicly posts how much they love their families has way, way more familial conflicts than the Chandlers do. Just a quick observation there.

These feelings are probably most evident in my siblings', but more specifically my, relationships with our father. He never wanted to do anything special for Father's Day, and his birthday which usually falls on the following week, and eschews any sort of dinner or celebration for a day of gardening in the backyard with the Jays on the radio and a beer to follow. I guess that is the way he would prefer to celebrate. It feels odd because we always go out of our way to phone our mom on Mother's Day and her birthday, but our dad has never seemed to care too much about that sort of thing.

Last year my siblings planned a big birthday dinner for our mom. We got a nice dinner and big-ish present for her. Rebecca and I went out to my parents' for dinner for my dad's birthday about two weeks later and one of the first things he said to Rebecca was,

"I don't want you to get the wrong idea, we don't always celebrate birthdays like this."

Just immediately trying to strip away any sort of focus or spotlight on himself. I try my best to imitate him in this regard.

Today I received a Father's Day email from my dad, in which he described his father and his relationship with him. My grandfather died a long time before I was born, when my dad was 24. My grandfather's early death has been an omnipresent thing in my dad's personality and I know that it was instrumental in him becoming the person he became. Since he was gone so much earlier, I never got to meet him and know him, so this email was a makeshift introduction for the two of us.

Reading through Dad's relationship with his own dad, I immediately saw parallels between it and my relationship with my dad. Two narratives that were very similar and part of the same line, but also disconnected at the same time. This is reinforced by the fact that my grandfather's name, Melville, is my middle name. I carry him around with me always. He has now been dead for a long time and his body is gone. I live on as a physical symbol of the bond between Mel and Bill Chandler. I like that. Does my dad think about that when he looks at me? Maybe.

My dad is the biggest influence on my life. He's always supported me and said the right thing and guided me towards what I should be doing. He has always shown and taught me what the right thing to do is. I realized in my later teens that by watching him, I could learn what it means to be a man. Not in the macho sense of the word, not at all. But meaning how to be a mature adult. When to speak. When not to speak. How to treat your friends. How to treat your loved ones. What to value. What to reject. What is important in the world.

I hope that I am doing a good job of remembering the lessons I've learned.

I don't have many pictures of him and I on my computer and I should do a better job of collecting the ones that exist. In fact, I only have the one I've included below, from my undergrad graduation. I have a mohawk and look like a goof, but at least our mustaches match. He looks proud. I like it.