Ever since I can remember Dad had loved movies. He would just laugh and laugh, leaving reality and fleeing to an emotional brilliance. His face would glow with the faintest touch of happiness and his eyes were livid with the dream of a child. The rest of us were usually tuned in, but as the years went by movies became less real, and more just like silly ideas and false realities.
We seldom watched movies as a family. We all had different likes, different imaginations. One or two of us would always get up and leave in the middle of a movie for fear of wasting our time on a "dud". I look back on those days and I can never recall Dad leaving. He stayed, seated in the chair, isolated, seeing the entire thing through. Movie time was Dad's time. But time for what? Time to himself, apart from working, changing diapers, or mowing the lawn? Time to Escape?
Mom had never approved of watching movies. To her it was senseless; a waste of time. To her we should be doing other things like yard work, or spending time outdoors.
Recently I watched a movie with Dad. A brilliant piece about love and destiny. This movie hit home. By the end of it I had been in tears. Just out of curiosity I glanced over at Dad. His face remained emotionless, but for the first time in years I caught a sparkle in his eye. What was so sad about this movie? He had seen many touching movies and never had he cried. What specifically was he sad for? I knew that when Dad had gotten a divorce to Mom he was sad. But sad for what? For the loss of a love? Or was it for loss of time? I watched him looking at the screen where the two lovers embraced. To me, the movie was real for the love I have for my boyfriend is real. But how was this made real to Dad? Mom and Dad had never really had much of a marriage. Those twenty years they had been married were empty for them.
I looked again. I saw a man of eternal loneliness. One who longed for the unconditional love that the two lovers had for one another. One whose heart did not know. One who saw but could never touch. I began sobbing.
I thought back on all the times he had watched. His eyes alert and knowing. Watching my boyfriend and I stare in to each other's eyes, and embrace. Is that why he had grown weary and bothered? Is that why every time I spoke my love's name Dad would roll is eyes in annoyance? For the longest time I had thought that he had simply disapproved of my love interest, but now I see his pain.
I remember the times when Dad would comfort me. I remember the times when he would act silly and forget about Mom. This is the only man I can remember. The other man was not real. The other man would be in the garage, worrying about the tractor, worrying about the money it would take to repair, worrying about Mom. The other man was shy and did not speak his dreams, and sat alone in fear. I know what abuse does to a person. I, myself still come home every evening to an empty house with four people inside. Life now seems to go by so quickly. Years go by like months, months like days and days like seconds. And I scarcely stop to realize what is actually going on. Time seems to slip away from me. Twenty years time had slipped away from Dad, and here I sat watching him watch a movie for the thousandth time, realizing it. I know that my current family life isn't perfect. And I know that this time in my life will fade away into a distant remembrance, for only very few moments when I am truly aware, become the vivid memories that I hold dear.
I was about 9 years old and it was summertime. I was on the front porch sipping lemonade and began to skip down the steps when I slipped. Dad ran over as I was screaming in pain, for I had a large wooden splinter embedded in my right palm. Dad was frantic and grabbed the tweezers, telling me that everything was going to be okay. He told me that it would hurt, but afterwards he would buy me a present. I agreed and he pulled out an inch and a half long splinter from my hand. It hurt very badly, but I wanted a present, and to feel better again. Dad took me to the video store and told me that I could pick out any movie I wanted and he would buy it for me. I was worried because I knew that Mom would not be happy about us spending money on something like a movie, but Dad told me not to worry. I picked one out called "It Takes Two" about identical strangers. Dad approved of my choice and we went home. I remember everything so clearly: Dad's smile, the excitement in his eyes, the way he tore off the packaging and put the movie into the VCR, the calming feeling of his embrace. That beautiful summer day we sat inside on the sofa watching my movie, drinking lemonade, not a worry on our minds.