There is so much to love about this essay—the hat (which is more than a hat), the bad call, the rooster. Above all, the way you listen to Evie and she responds with a flood of impressions and opinions. I had to smile when she explains how you could have done better as parents. Well, couldn’t we all? Someday she’ll know.
I am always so happy to read your thoughtful, perfectly on-point responses, Rona. I felt immediately when I saw your wonderful piece this morning that our essays were talking to each other, in a way. How could I ask for anything more than that? I appreciate you so much, as always.
Another lovely piece Rob. Beautifully observed relationship between a loving father and teenage daughter and that fine balance between getting along and annoying her/hurting her feelings! Like a sensitive instrument indeedl!
I was being disciplined filing away my other substack articles to read later so I could be focused and productive this morning but had to open your's as soon as I saw it. You managed to bring tears to my eyes again. I love thinking of our teenage children as sensitive instruments we are still learning to make music with. On our road trip to see family last weekend, I dipped deep into my patience to allow the 5 or 6 hours of near silence from my 16 year old (save for the great music she choose). I was rewarded on the way home with her insights and thoughts and so grateful I had withheld the urge to push too hard for more on the first half of the trip. They are such incredible creatures and such sources of growth for us when we manage to find the balance between letting them be and ensuring they know how much we adore them even in the midst of their emanations of exasperation with us (-:
Thank you, Laurie, what a lovely thing to say. And I’m so glad your patience repaid—hard as the wait can be. I’m so glad you had this time with your teens. Thank you so much for sharing—I so appreciate your thoughtful response, as always.
Wow, Iceland! What an amazing memory-making trip! I spent 6 hours yesterday in a car with my own 81 year-old father. His memory has faded about hard things (one of the graces of aging) and yet his core belief that I, as his daughter, am always worth hearing and spending time with, has built my world into a place of security. Father/daughter relationships are unique and hard fought. Well done, Rob! Keep fighting the fight, no matter how old she gets. We have 3 daughters...I tell my husband God thought highly of him. Lol Thank you again for sharing so transparently, and putting into words what others cannot.
I love this comment so much, thank you, Lisa. Totally agree with you about father/daughter relationships. And it is a strange but welcome blessing, the aging parents’ forgetfulness of difficult things. It makes me think of the Hayden Carruth poem he wrote near the end of his life, where he says: “Now I am almost entirely love.” All the best to you and your family. Here’s to all the best, hard fought relationships.
Beautiful. You’re clearly a great father. She will remember that and treasure it all her life. You’ve given her a foundation to be a loving responsible adult…and if she is fortunate enough to have her own children, I believe her love will reflect yours. Thank you for this wonderful essay.
Once again you’re writing connects directly with my experiences. It feels uncanny but perhaps it just shows shared experiences and it just takes someone gifted like you to articulate it. But it still feels surreal. Chasing a hat across an icy parking lot, worrying about the state of the world and what will happen to our kids, a daughter who you love so much that it hurts. I’ve been in all of those places. And it so happens that I know the answer to your question at the end. Ever since she was a little girl after feebly and sleepily and trying to make up some bedtime story, I would ask her “how much does daddy love you”. “Infinity”, I tell her. If she knows anything about me, at least she knows that. ♾️
Thank you so much, Robert, I appreciate this greatly. If there’s anything for a child to know about their parent, there’s nothing better than that. And I hope you finally caught your hat, too. Mine was a very close call!
Not at all surprised that you managed to make me both laugh (at feeling like a saint, I would too) and cry in the same short piece of writing. You're such a talented writer.
I can still remember the size of my feelings the first time I saw the aurora, and wondering how a feeling that big could fit inside my body (I remember the same thing with feelings and being a teenage girl in general). I'm with Evie in that it's hard to imagine seeing that and not believing in something.
This is all I could hope to hear, thank you, Sarah. I’m glad you’d feel like a saint, too. My friend Avery has to quietly leave the house when her husband is eating an apple. Saintly! Anyway, your responses mean so much to me, so thank you for reading and taking the time to leave such a kind comment. (And I’m with Evie, too.)
What a nice read! Many years ago I went to Iceland with my daughter. There’s something lovely about the way you are so protective and sensitive. In my case it was more about the two of us floundering around (well me really), marvelling about the landscape and sights (her) and complaining about the price of the drinks (me again) 🙈
Thank you, Lettice! I saw a t-shirt when we there: “Iceland… it’s not only cold, it’s also very expensive.” We did plenty of floundering around, and marveling, too. So glad you enjoyed this one, and that it brought back memories of your own trip.
Wowzers. This piece moved me so deeply. Gave me pangs about my layered relationship with my own father, particularly during my teens and 20s. Thank you, Rob Tourtelot. I enjoy your writing so much.
There is so much to love about this essay—the hat (which is more than a hat), the bad call, the rooster. Above all, the way you listen to Evie and she responds with a flood of impressions and opinions. I had to smile when she explains how you could have done better as parents. Well, couldn’t we all? Someday she’ll know.
I am always so happy to read your thoughtful, perfectly on-point responses, Rona. I felt immediately when I saw your wonderful piece this morning that our essays were talking to each other, in a way. How could I ask for anything more than that? I appreciate you so much, as always.
Another lovely piece Rob. Beautifully observed relationship between a loving father and teenage daughter and that fine balance between getting along and annoying her/hurting her feelings! Like a sensitive instrument indeedl!
Thank you so much! I know you’ve seen this very dynamic in person, so I’m very pleased to know that it rang true.
I was being disciplined filing away my other substack articles to read later so I could be focused and productive this morning but had to open your's as soon as I saw it. You managed to bring tears to my eyes again. I love thinking of our teenage children as sensitive instruments we are still learning to make music with. On our road trip to see family last weekend, I dipped deep into my patience to allow the 5 or 6 hours of near silence from my 16 year old (save for the great music she choose). I was rewarded on the way home with her insights and thoughts and so grateful I had withheld the urge to push too hard for more on the first half of the trip. They are such incredible creatures and such sources of growth for us when we manage to find the balance between letting them be and ensuring they know how much we adore them even in the midst of their emanations of exasperation with us (-:
YES! The last bit!
Thank you, Laurie, what a lovely thing to say. And I’m so glad your patience repaid—hard as the wait can be. I’m so glad you had this time with your teens. Thank you so much for sharing—I so appreciate your thoughtful response, as always.
adds "waterproof mascara" to cart...
💛
Wow, Iceland! What an amazing memory-making trip! I spent 6 hours yesterday in a car with my own 81 year-old father. His memory has faded about hard things (one of the graces of aging) and yet his core belief that I, as his daughter, am always worth hearing and spending time with, has built my world into a place of security. Father/daughter relationships are unique and hard fought. Well done, Rob! Keep fighting the fight, no matter how old she gets. We have 3 daughters...I tell my husband God thought highly of him. Lol Thank you again for sharing so transparently, and putting into words what others cannot.
I love this comment so much, thank you, Lisa. Totally agree with you about father/daughter relationships. And it is a strange but welcome blessing, the aging parents’ forgetfulness of difficult things. It makes me think of the Hayden Carruth poem he wrote near the end of his life, where he says: “Now I am almost entirely love.” All the best to you and your family. Here’s to all the best, hard fought relationships.
I’ll have to look that one up! Thank you so much. Here, here! 🥂
Beautiful. You’re clearly a great father. She will remember that and treasure it all her life. You’ve given her a foundation to be a loving responsible adult…and if she is fortunate enough to have her own children, I believe her love will reflect yours. Thank you for this wonderful essay.
Thank you, Jan. I sure hope so. I really appreciate you, and your support means the world, so thank you!
What an unusual delight to read a father writing about his relationship with his daughter. Beautiful ♥️
Thanks so much, Kisane. It means a lot to hear that this landed.
Once again you’re writing connects directly with my experiences. It feels uncanny but perhaps it just shows shared experiences and it just takes someone gifted like you to articulate it. But it still feels surreal. Chasing a hat across an icy parking lot, worrying about the state of the world and what will happen to our kids, a daughter who you love so much that it hurts. I’ve been in all of those places. And it so happens that I know the answer to your question at the end. Ever since she was a little girl after feebly and sleepily and trying to make up some bedtime story, I would ask her “how much does daddy love you”. “Infinity”, I tell her. If she knows anything about me, at least she knows that. ♾️
Thank you so much, Robert, I appreciate this greatly. If there’s anything for a child to know about their parent, there’s nothing better than that. And I hope you finally caught your hat, too. Mine was a very close call!
Not at all surprised that you managed to make me both laugh (at feeling like a saint, I would too) and cry in the same short piece of writing. You're such a talented writer.
I can still remember the size of my feelings the first time I saw the aurora, and wondering how a feeling that big could fit inside my body (I remember the same thing with feelings and being a teenage girl in general). I'm with Evie in that it's hard to imagine seeing that and not believing in something.
This is all I could hope to hear, thank you, Sarah. I’m glad you’d feel like a saint, too. My friend Avery has to quietly leave the house when her husband is eating an apple. Saintly! Anyway, your responses mean so much to me, so thank you for reading and taking the time to leave such a kind comment. (And I’m with Evie, too.)
A beautiful piece. Thank you.
How lovely to hear that this connected, thank you, Judith.
What a nice read! Many years ago I went to Iceland with my daughter. There’s something lovely about the way you are so protective and sensitive. In my case it was more about the two of us floundering around (well me really), marvelling about the landscape and sights (her) and complaining about the price of the drinks (me again) 🙈
Thank you, Lettice! I saw a t-shirt when we there: “Iceland… it’s not only cold, it’s also very expensive.” We did plenty of floundering around, and marveling, too. So glad you enjoyed this one, and that it brought back memories of your own trip.
Wowzers. This piece moved me so deeply. Gave me pangs about my layered relationship with my own father, particularly during my teens and 20s. Thank you, Rob Tourtelot. I enjoy your writing so much.
That’s so kind of you to say, Teresa. I’m so happy to hear this moved you. Thank you for reading, and leaving such a lovely comment.
Another beauty. The Rooster who'd never seen the ocean...
Thank you, my friend. 💛
Iceland and the teenage years. Both rather rocky. But so beautiful as well.
Thank you so much, Lesley. I love this description.
With two daughters out in the world, one about to turn 30, the other just past, I feel every world of this glorious piece. Thank you. 🙏
Thank so much, Elizabeth. I appreciate your reading, and sending these lovely words. Happy birthday to your daughter!
Every world. Ha! What a fun typo. ☺️
This is absolutely beautiful. I've never known a father's love, but you just made me feel it❤️
I’m so moved by this, thank you, @Punk Rock Pixie 🇨🇦. I’m grateful that you read this piece, and sent such a beautiful response.