A Moment In Time

When Dad died a few weeks ago, we found ourselves pouring over the old photo albums and searching through zip drives full of pictures to find the right ones for the photo boards at the funeral home. It's amazing how many memories come flooding back to you that were buried somewhere in the dark corners of your brain. Things you didn't even know you had forgotten come flying back to you. 

I would imagine that my Dad had his camera on timer, at this point. Because I don't remember Mom being there. But there he is. In all his terrible fashion don't glory. I immediately took a picture of this picture and made it my profile picture on Facebook. Because it encompasses so many things:

• Portage Aquatics (the logo on my dad really fashionable tank top) was the pet store that specialized in tropical fish my parents owned as I grew up. 
• We're at Woodland Park, which was one of my favorite places as a kid. I still go there, often. 
• I feel like this face I am making sums up how my family always made me feel, as a kid: I was allowed to question and marvel at anything and everything. It was not only accepted but encouraged.

It also has one of my favorite Dad (old and new) stories attached to it. 

Earlier last year I said to Dad, on a Saturday when we were home alone, "Remember when  you blew those big bubbles with me?"

Dad: You mean the time that you opened the package I told you not to?
Me: No. That's not what happened.
Dad: I should ground you again for that.
Me: You said don't take it out of the package. I didn't. I only opened it. 
Dad: You knew what I meant!
Me: I was like 4. I had no idea. 
Dad: No, you did. You were a smart-ass even back then. 
Me: Whatever. You said don't take it out of the package. I didn't take it out of the package.
Dad: I wasn't sure if we should be impressed at your listening skills or offended at your smart-alecness.

Here's some background:

Dad bought these amazing bubble wands. To blow huge bubbles with. He said he would take me when he was done doing something in the fish store. He explicitly said "Do not take those out of the package" and left me in the front of the building. Well, I didn't take them out of the package. But I removed all the wrapping. And probably spent a good twenty minutes or so petting the wands. I was so excited to go to the park. But I never removed them from their spot in the box. I just took the plastic off. When Dad came out to go to the park - well, he wasn't exactly "Hey, favorite kid! Let's go!" It was more "We aren't going, why did you not listen to me? Go to your room. *pause* And leave the bubbles here." 

Luckily, I had a Mom in my corner. Who made him take me. Not that day, but soon thereafter. Or we wouldn't have this documentation of what a tragic state of fashion the 80s really was. 

Before Dad even passed away I was telling Mom the story of Dad's conversation with me, about how I didn't listen, even as a kid. She stuck up for him. As usual.

Mom: You totally were being a smart-ass.
Me: No way! You have no idea what was going on in my head.
Mom: We knew you, even back then. And it was always smart-ass.
Me: I never took it out of the package.

A few days later I told Dad about how Mom and I had discussed it and Mom stuck up for him.

Dad: That's what married people do. It's in your vows.
Me: To lie to your children? 
Dad: We weren't lying. You were a total smart-ass. 
Me: Let it go. You're wrong, dude.
Dad: You're the one bringing it up. You let it go.
Me: No, I'm fighting for my rights.
Dad: Did I take you to blow the bubbles or not?
Me: No one can confirm or deny this. Maybe it was a dream I had that night. All alone in my room. You know, the room you sent me to because I was a "terrible" child.
Dad: I took you. Let it go.
Me: My heart was broken.
Dad: I see your mouth isn't.
Me: Never!
Dad: If I could ground you to the other room, away from me, right now. I would.

I guess he was right. Here's the photographic evidence. And for the record, I totally remember going a few days after the Great Bubble Incident. But I still stand by my story. I never removed it from the package. Which was exactly what he said. "Don't take that out of the package." 

...guess I get the last word on this one, pops. Bittersweet victory, to say the least. Thanks for letting me marvel at how big the world (and bubbles) is, always.  And for capturing this moment in time for me.