Thursday, August 05, 2010

Brooding Scandinavian.

I do not have a close relationship with my birth father. I have written about some of how I feel about him in the past. There is so much about him that I do not know, that remains elusive to me. I wonder sometimes, how much of who I am, and how I am comes from him.

When I look at myself in the mirror, I definitely see a physical resemblance to my father, specifically to the women in his family. My mom tells me that my laugh is just like his laugh. I wouldn’t know - on the few occasions we see each other, there isn't much laughing. He is a collector of things – rocks and gems and feathers. I used to think that was weird. Now I find myself surrounding myself with tiny objects that comfort me, and I understand. He is also someone who gets really excited about one thing in particular and goes for it whole hog. I get that too – I am an all or nothing type of person. I am not very good at balance. But where he is slow to respond to questions, takes his time in conversations (often annoyingly so), I am quick with my words and seem incapable of taking my time or pacing myself, unless I am sad or stunned.

Only from observation can I surmise that he suffers from the same depression I do. That he gets frozen by sadness. Lulled into complacency because he just can’t get motivated to change the things around him, to change himself. Perhaps it is the brooding Scandinavian bloodline we share. I know that even as I push up from the bottom of the ocean, kicking my legs with all my might to reach the surface and gasp for air, for life, that this will not be the last time I fight this fight. I will feel good for a while, and then slowly start sinking again, so slowly that at first I won’t notice. I wonder if he moves through this same cycle of dark and light. I wonder if he has any answers on how to stop it, or if he feels as helpless as I do when the happiness starts to slip away.

I wonder.


  1. Vanessa12:41 p.m.

    It took me a while to respond to this, given what a personal chord it strikes with me ...

    Well, I'm afraid I still have no answers for you - the secrets of the Scandinavian soul still escape me, despite living intertwined with one for 6 years.

    One of life's great mysteries ... perhaps better unsolved ...

  2. Anonymous1:00 p.m.

    you're a really beautiful writer. I read this twice!