3/4 Life Crises
Did I ever mention how my dad is having 3/4 life crises? He’s 73.
Our house is being redecorated by a blind man, my father, and it looks tremendous. He could see for a long time. He remembers.
It started with buying a new couch. Not just any ordinary couch. The best leather couches they make in Italy.
That was a relatively necessary and tame purchase. But then we moved to the tables, he didn’t just want an ordinary everyday coffee table, he wanted one that was made of some special stone. So we found three tables that are made of some stone I can’t remember the name of. They have this really interesting red with gold swirls and different subtle colors. They are stunningly gorgeous no doubt, however, was that really necessary?
I know, it’s his money. It may be my inheritance he is spending, but that is neither here nor there.
I mean some people get sports cars, he’s into furniture. He wants granite and marble dinner tables. OK. I can jive with that even. But we got a new deck, changed the carpet etc. We are tired, the carpet change was the most demanding because we had to flip the house upside down in order to do that. We are still putting it back together again. Like Humpty Dumpty, will it ever be the same again?
We, all four of us in the Uppal Family are not do-it-yourself people. I can barely keep our flowers and indoor plants alive. We pay people to do shit for us. Don’t get me wrong, we do not have an unending supply of money. We just would prefer not to get down on our hands and knees, except to pray. There is a lot of prayer in this house.
The thing that people don’t know about my father that I am publically revealing to the whole world is that he is an extremely knowledgeable man when it comes to Sikh Scriptures. If he finds out I’m doing this he will slap me. He can recite lines, entire passages and translate them from the Guru Granth Sahib, our scriptures. He doesn’t wear a turban so no one would believe the man spends hours in our prayer room listening to the scriptures and their translations. He could become a priest at this point, he knows so much. Too bad we don’t have priests in our religion.
I will be honest, the reason I don’t have a husband is that I’m looking for someone who would live up to the expectations that my father has given me. I want someone who is as good as my dad. My husband can be totally different. Oh, but he has to be as smart as my father. Have I mentioned that my dad is a genius? No, I’m not kidding. He is one of those people who just knows things. You know in our scriptures they talk a lot about saints. I think he is one. It says if you serve the saints you shall be saved or something like that.
I probably don’t serve him enough. I want to make him happy, I do all the regular stuff. I make him chai, I organize his medicines. I take him shopping for his tables etc. My mom does the rest. But I don’t’ know that I make him happy. We talk about politics, his favorite topic at the moment is Treason and Trump. You can’t really fault him for that. He is very passionate about world events and spirituality, those are his two favorite topics. Oh and stone and leather furniture.
You know we were getting a new car and there were some BMW’s and Lexus’s on sale for leases. He looked at the price and he could afford them. But, he decided against a fancy car. I asked him why. “It’s good to keep a low profile,” he said. He is not into showing off. We bought another Camry.
The thing is, he is the reason that I am sane. He was the one who would knock on my door, never enter my room, but yell my name until I woke up. If I told him I wanted to sleep more, he would tell me he wasn’t moving from the door until I woke up. He told me later that that was hard to do, really hard. He’s not a harsh man. He is a very quiet mild mannered man who lives with two loud mouthed crazy women. And a third sister who is just as crazy if not just as loud.
He is interested in listening to books of spiritual leaders that I admire. He always goes back to the Sikh Scriptures and says that whatever my books say has already been said by the Sikh Gurus. He’s not wrong. I just like the modern view of god and spirituality is all. I don’t disagree with anything in the Sikh Scriptures, I just don’t always relate to them totally and completely. I’m sure that is totally and completely my own fault.
I will admit when my father asks me to do something, I tell him, every time, “not now.” In fact, he chants “not now!” to me sometimes for fun. His fun. Otherwise, I ask for five minutes, which inherently can turn into at least half an hour. At least. Why don’t I jump when my blind father asks me to do something? Cause I don’t think of him as disabled or different, I treat him exactly the same way I treated him when he could see. He’s my dad. I love him to death but he annoys me sometimes by asking to do too much.
His favorite request is: “Can you google that?” He has his own phone that is in blind mode, so he can talk to Siri and ask her to do anything for him. But he prefers me to Siri. I guess that’s one less woman I have to compete with.
He’s a funny guy. Like when I put a big sheet over a desk in my room, and there was stuff strewn everywhere underneath it, he called me up in Grad School and said, “You will not create anymore Burkha’s out of furniture in this house!” I don’t know if you got that joke, but whatever. He’s funny. He’s gained twenty pounds from a medicine that did not suit him. All day he will say “I paid three hundred dollars for that and it was crap!” He’s willing to pay thousands for a stone table though. Don’t think the man is cheap. Actually, he’s cheap about the small stuff, makes me go to Walmart for groceries, but spends money on big ticket items like tables and chairs.
I love him. He taught me what unconditional love is even though I didn’t do the career choice he wanted, and I’m currently talking to a guy who isn’t making more than $100,000 a year. He has gotten used to it all and accepted me for who I am.
He helped to make me who I am.
So if you like this blog, and you like my ideas, you should respect him.
He helped form my brain.
Thank you, Daddy.