Dad: My Worst Enemy, My Best Friend~Part 1

6 Jun

My Take

DiVoran Lites

 

Author, Poet and ArtistI’m writing this post on Memorial Day, May 30, 2016 the day when I finally knew how much I loved my Dad. In church the day before, our Pastor invited the congregation to call out the names of loved ones who had died for their country. There was a silence then one person spoke, another short silence and then someone else spoke. No one said the name loudly, but soon we heard a chorus of voices expressing grief. It was sad, but suddenly I had an epiphany. My dad was an infantryman in WW2. That means he did most of the war on foot. The difference was: my dad came home. That meant that I didn’t go through life without a father as so many children have done over the centuries. Sounds like I should have known how blessed I was, doesn’t it? But you see, Dad and I were at odds for most of my life and I developed some fairly hefty grievances because of it.

Ivan went to war when I was five years old and my brother almost three. He was in the Battle of the Bulge, and although he came back whole, I think there was an unseen part of him left behind. On top of that, Dad was a male and I happened to be born a female, something that dad took hard. Old story, eh, Dad wants a boy for his first born. This Dad knew little about girls because he just had one brother growing up, no sisters to teach him what girls were like. I guess you might say he did his best to make a real man of me. Now don’t get me wrong, I really like men. I’ve had one of every male relative a person can have and I liked them all pretty well, most of the time.

Ivan Bowers

Ivan Bowers, circa 1919

At the time we happened to be living in Crowley, Colorado where dad was a mechanic in a tomato factory. Mother’s job was to give the workers a big dinner at noon. We lived in a shotgun house, which meant that if you shot a gun through the front door, the bullet would go out the back door. The kitchen was at the back. We had a rooster, some chickens, and a Nanny goat for milk. When I got older, Mother told me that when we walked over go over to factory to visit Dad, we’d all go together in a line: Mom, Sister, Brother, our dog, and Chanticleer (the rooster), Nanny Goat and her kid, Billy. Billy would walk on tiny hooves trip-trap over the panes of glass that protected the tender, new plants from the elements. Mother said she held her breath hoping Billy Goat wouldn’t break any of them and he never did.

—–To Be Continued—–

3 Responses to “Dad: My Worst Enemy, My Best Friend~Part 1”

  1. Onisha Ellis June 6, 2016 at 1:32 pm #

    I am looking forward to this series and thankful you feel free to share it.

    Like

  2. Linda Lewis June 6, 2016 at 12:00 pm #

    What an interesting story, DiVoran! I’m looking forward to the next installment.

    Liked by 1 person

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