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THE ENDLESS CODA
How on earth do I end this thing? After so much gyration, so much re-remembering, so much backtracking on my stances and self-understandings.... Perhaps a multiple-choice question would be ideal.
(1) I’m a great dad and everything is going to be fine!
(2) I’m a terrible dad and have already scarred my kids for life!
(3) I’m a mediocre dad with more doubt than hope—the glass is 49.9% full—and my kids will stay mired in the same shit as I did, and their kids will do the same, and so on until my descendants are barely able to get out of bed in the morning.
(4) I’m a mediocre dad with more hope than doubt—the glass is 51.1% full—and my kids will gradually rise above the mire I’ve left them stuck in to be unique individuals who aren’t scared to speak the truth.
Generally I lean toward answer #4. As much as I'd like to pretend that I don't want an answer, I do. I want to be told it's okay, but I'm the only one who can do that telling. My dad could come back from the dead and tell me I'm a good dad, but what does he know?
No, the question will limp on behind me like Quasimodo. This little path is an attempt to wrap things up, though. To bring things, if not to a conclusion, then at least to some small, feathery nest where the question can ask itself in perpetuity without grabbing me by the ankles as I go about my business.
It's the question itself that should be limping. Not me.
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