*a poem by Louise Gluck, from her 1996 collection Meadowlands
When I was a child looking
at my parents' lives, you know
what I thought? I thought
heartbreaking. Now I think
heartbreaking, but also
insane. Also
very funny.
*I suppose my impression of my parental units, and their lives, always included the fact that they were definitely funny, my dad for sure. As I knew more, heard and witnessed more - yes, it was clear that their lives were also heartbreaking, past and present, present being all those moments during my childhood into maturity, and their eventual deaths. The hopes and dreams they both sacrificed to the gods of conventionality, to mid-century ideas about men and women and what kinds of lives they 'should' lead. My mother was built to lead a college or company, built; my dad loved his kids and was a funny, fond fellow who wanted more than anything to design, make, repair and refinish furniture, old and new. I believe, and of course I don't know this for sure, he would've been a terrific stay-at-home parent. I also know I was lucky in my parents, despite many challenges, and that they both did the best they could with what resources they were given, and discovered.
I am also very funny, as is my life. Heartbreaking, too - but mostly, funny. Like, JHFC, what the fuck was that, all of that? Did that really happen, to me?! Well, yes, Virginia, it really did. All of it. My life, my insane and wonderful life.