Raised To Be Sleek?

by Pat Antonopoulos

In Michael Perry's book Coop, he writes about the funeral of his young nephew, Jake. Michael looks around at the 'sunburned old dogs' with Brylcreemed hair approaching his brother, (Jake's father). Michael writes, "At times like this I am grateful I was not raised to be sleek.".

I love that. I love Michael Perry's perception that grieving touches the heart, no matter the look of the mourner. I love the acceptance of everyman, no matter his dress. What matters is the need to share the grief, to do something to make the pain less crushing.

"...not raised to be sleek."
My dad was born in 1910, a long time before education and experience brought us to our easy enjoyment of cultural diversity, our acceptance of everyman. But Dad knew all that without education and experience.

Some family lore has him graduating from high school and the flip side says he quit high school to earn money so he could impress Mom. Heads or tails, the story works.

Our high school (1950's) had some cultural diversity though not the degree enjoyed today. Dad saw color, but color had no other significance than shades of skin. His friends were as diverse and they often filled the big kitchen bantering with us and filling the house with laughter.

Dad was bandbox perfect in his personal appearance, but the scruffiest kid could come to our house and be welcomed. Dad really believed that idea that every moment is just that---a moment, a snapshot in a life.

Actually, the aftermath of the depression probably prevented us from being raised 'Sleek', even if our parents hoped for that. But I believe that Dad saw people as good, as a reflection of one another mirroring only the best.

I am grateful to Michael Perry and his book for reminding me of this wonderful part of who my father was, of the depth of this special side of his character.