Human location | Memoirs
l Any mother, I am worried about maintaining a way to communicate with the children. Although I know the importance of honest dialogue, I am also very confident. I am embarrassed and unremittingly trying to talk. There is no doubt that the effects of years are the opposite of years. This is especially true when my three children are young and more reluctant to share.
My sharp hard work often makes me feel more like a frightened walnut clip, not a enthusiastic partner to talk. I have been worried about applying wrong pressure at the wrong position at the wrong time. But then I remembered my father's best parenting suggestion: the best conversation happened in the car.
This is a screaming irony for his words, because as a thirteen -year -old father, he knows the damn, and we rarely be alone with any parents, let alone in the car. When he gave me this suggestion, the ninth smile politely smiled and wrote down the spiritual notes of searching for files. When I tried to tell the family discussions that we might conduct a rural road on the rural road on the clown car, I remembered a lot of debates. The loud string is full of wit and speed, but it has not changed life.
We have never resolved the mystery of the planet of the collapse of the ape -man table. I never found that when Dad ran through his feet, Matty played a long number on the lane. I still don't know why our vacuum vacuum cleaner was named Egney, why our big brother used it to dry his hair. Then I remembered a loneliness of the burger chef.
When I was in the fourth grade, a girl from a school decided to make fun of my lunch. She attributed her mission to the news that heralded my sad single Bologna sandwiches and the obvious state of my family. I am painful, but I have no way to tell my parents. I am not only for myself but also embarrassing them, but I am eager to fear that I will hurt their feelings.
My father can feel that something has been up and ask me one night I want to work with him. I know that even if Bologna hangs like a brick around the neck, I can't give up this rare treatment. We drove silently for a while, and then easily missed the transfer of exports. He apologized and asked me if he was hungry. We became several exported burger chefs. I climbed into the front seat and eager to get a complete experience of driving windows.
When we ate secret hiding place, we talked about stupid things with a smile, but then he turned the conversation into my mood, and the walnut clip came out. I don't remember going home. I don't remember how I told him, but what happened the next day has become a genetic memory.
When I was going to go to school lunch, my mother told my dad to clean up. I opened the brown bag and sat in the Bologna sandwiches that I cut into thin slices. It was the biggest chocolate éclair I have ever seen. The wrap was so gorgeous. When the bag opened, it seemed to be bragging. This is the first time I feel mixed with emotions. All of them have from my heart to my head to my intestines. Surprise, joy, gratitude, chaos, internal GUI, sadness-they all shot me to the highest billing.
However, just like most condensed things, GUI and sadness rose to the top. Because of my own fault, my frank words hurt him, and I thought deeply. Our new bond is sealed with shame with the most cruel and useless emotions. He knows that I have been trying to protect him, and now I know he may be injured in life, even a wet fourth -year girl. I remember thinking, we are together.
What I forgot is that if it is not that car, the sacred formation will never happen.
When a vacuum -like sound on a car door shut up, speaking can speak safely, miraculous things may happen. The intangible pain carried by them evaporates with the warm breath of the conversation. Establishing connections, the efforts of actual connection can be tested to ensure accuracy. Silence can be used as a replacement method of meaningless words, but it only puts pressure on people and requires people to speak.
It may be the ultimate guardian of the shared sharing to protect them from our infringement. They accidentally evaporate the small, fragile, and beautiful starting point.
In those years, I would pay attention to my father's words, because I opened a more encouraging and enthusiastic walnut clip. It is blue, with four wheels, which are scattered on the empty Duncan donut cup and yellow Labrador fur. But this is the version of our "Track Colder". When we traveled along the back road in the surrounding town, I knew that the promise of a good word was sitting like an unpacking delicious cakes on the back seat.
We will drive this protected silence until one of us wants to gently knock on the edge of our personal bubbles. Let another person know that I saw you gestures, I am listening, I am ready.
We crack nuts together in this safe place.
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