Summary

The text recounts the evolving relationship between the author and their father following the author's mother's death, marked by initial tension and misunderstanding but leading to a deeper connection through mutual effort and communication.

Abstract

The narrative begins on November 5, 1994, after the author and their father return from the mother's funeral. The author grapples with suppressed resentment and fears being ousted by their father, with whom they have a strained relationship. The father, a military man, is perceived as intimidating, yet the author recognizes a softer side to him. The family dynamic is described as dysfunctional, with the father seen as an outsider. Despite their differences and explosive arguments, the author and their father commit to understanding each other, leading to humorous reflections on their conflicts and a gradual improvement in their relationship. The text concludes with the insight that relationships require effort from both parties and that even something as simple as cutting sausage can become a significant metaphor for learning to coexist.

Opinions

The author initially harbors resentment towards their father, projecting feelings they had toward their mother.
There is a fear that the father might force the author out of the house, highlighting a lack of financial independence and security.
The father is characterized as having a gruff exterior but is also described as a "pussycat," suggesting a complex personality beneath a tough military demeanor.
The family dynamic is disrupted when the father is home, with the mother positioned as the protector against the father's strictness.
The author acknowledges the similarities between themselves and their father, including their tempers, which contribute to their conflicts.
Despite the intensity of their arguments, the author reflects on them with some humor, indicating a shift in perspective over time.
The author's uncle, Richard, chooses to stay out of the father-son disputes, recognizing the potential danger and volatility of the situation.
The final thought emphasizes the value of working on relationships and the importance of compromise, even in mundane matters like cooking breakfast.

Me and My Dad, so much Alike, but so Different Part One

It’s funny thinking about it now

November 5, 1994, my dad, uncle, and I had returned home from my mom’s funeral, “ what am I going to do now.” I thought as I looked at my dad.

I knew the situation was unhealthy, but I didn’t know how to handle it. I suppressed the resentment I had toward my mom,

and projected it toward my dad.

Mom and I were convinced dad would throw me out

The first concern I had was, where was I going to go? mom and I convinced ourselves that dad was going to throw me out into the street. I didn’t have the money to live on my own.

The second concern was, were my dad and I going to kill each other? We didn’t know or understand each other, I had lived at home my whole life, and my dad and I were strangers.

Behind the gruff exterior, my dad was a pussycat

My dad was a life-long military man. He spent two years in the army, then he spent over twenty years in the AirForce. He spent a lot of the time deployed.

Mom raised us kids, she was the boss. When dad was home, he wanted to be a dad. He was a gruff, loud man, who could be quite intimidating.

To say it was Dysfunctional is an understatement

The problem was, he came home and disrupted the dynamic of the family. He was the enemy, and mom was the good guy who would protect us from the meany that was our dad.

I made a conscious decision soon after mom died. I was going to learn how to talk to my dad, and he decided to learn to understand me.

The blow-ups were few, but they were spectacular

It wasn’t easy, not by a long shot. We were both big guys, and we both had tempers, I was my father’s son after all. We had some spectacular blow-ups, they were awful at the time, but looking back on it, some of them were funny.

At the time, I had taken a break from being a security guard. I was working during the day as a janitor. I got up that morning, dad was staring at the frying pan, he was cooking breakfast. The sausage was sizzling.

The breakfast sausage was a big deal with my dad. He wanted his Jimmy Dean sausage perfectly cut. Not squashed at all, and symmetrical edges.

I’m a clutz, I have trouble doing simple things

I never could figure out how to do that. Dad would chew me out and rant and rave about the freaking sausage so much that I started eating bacon.

I walked into the kitchen, and before I could say, “ Good Morning dad,” he threw down the gauntlet.

“ What knife did you use to cut the sausage? “ I should have thought before I spoke, I really should have.

I should have kept my mouth shut

“ Come on dad, it’s just sausage.” It was on then. He threw the spatula down and started screaming, but that time, I didn’t cower and run away.

We must have spent a good half hour screaming at each other, and truth be told, it wasn’t all about the sausage for me. I vented years of anger.

Uncle Richard stayed in bed, he wasn’t getting in the middle of that mess

My uncle Richard told me a few days later. He wanted to get out of bed and try to be a peacemaker, but he was afraid of getting killed. My dad realized he pushed me too far, he tried to reach out for a hug. I told him, “ don’t fucking touch me,” then I stormed out of the house.

There were other blow-ups. In typical Wallace fashion, they were bombastic and over-the-top. We got through them and built a pretty good relationship.

Final thought:

Relationships take work. If both parties are willing to do the work something beautiful can happen, but be careful how you cut the sausage.