MY DAD KNEW HOW TO MAKE A MEMORY
My father Angelo LaCivita Jr. was a different guy. He was prone to real anger at times, and still at others would show amazing grace. There was always a duality to him, but one constant was his ability to make a memory. My father was not a lesson giver either; I can maybe count on one hand the times he sat me down to "have a talk". And to be honest I don't think I can remember a single one of those. I'm not sure about this but I think it was because he worked with kids for so long and saw that most adults do nothing but lecture at children to begin with, and he would have never wanted to be another one that did.
This picture above- is one my dad took on an old polaroid camera (obviously); I remember that day really well actually, and that's my point, memories last. At this point in my father's life, he hadn't yet become a minister - He was a truck driver. I remember he was gone for about two days on a run. I was fascinated with this camera we had, I loved tooling around with it, taking it apart sometimes to see how it worked. God only knows how much film I wasted on that thing. On the day he got back he saw me trying to put it back together, well caught me trying to really - and instead of yelling or punishing me he just asked what I was doing. I said something like 'making sure this thing gets put back together' or some feeble attempt to cover my tracks; still a little weary if I was in trouble or not. My Dad looked at me, smirked, and then sat next to me on the floor. He then went on and told me all about how the camera worked, and what it did. He gave me a step by step walkthrough on what each piece did and how to load and unload the cartridge. The picture above was taken because he was telling me that the 'camera takes memories of an instant, and then that instant becomes history - almost as soon as it happens', and after he said that - he snapped two photos; letting me take one I believe.
Now that might seem a little too heady of a message for a little boy, but this was one of his 'themes' that continued to come up years later. He had a list of flaws for sure, but taking the time to sit down with his young somewhat destructive son wasn't one of them. He always found a way to bring up the concept of 'make a memory'. In fact; he usually didn't have to go out of his way to do these types of things, he knew how to hang on to a little moment and turn it into a memory. Looking back what I guess he truly had mastered was being available not merely present.
If I had an interest he'd stop and talk to me about it, he wasn't the most patient man, but he did take time to answer any question I had. This March I turn 40, my wife and I have 4 kids now, and my father has been buried for 6 years. My time is super limited across the board; running my business, home improvements, trying to keep food on the table for our litter, and trying desperately to carve out a little time for my wife and I to spend for ourselves. I know how important time is and how fleeting it goes. Our oldest son Zane is 7 and asks a million questions right now, and I've found I even know the answer to a few of them. I can say I do my best to stop and answer whatever I can, but boy do I fall short sometimes. When I do; I think about Dad. Then I think about my children view their dad, how they will remember me, and what will their memory be. Was I calm, was I kind, did I seem busy, did I take an interest, did I make them feel important? Did I sit on the floor enough with them?
There is always a reason to miss these moments with our kids, and I'm pretty sure we could justify NOT taking time to make a memory. Life is hard, busy, and very complicated. But when I look at this picture, I think it's never the lessons, it’s never the speeches, or how hard you hustle at your daily grind ..... it’s always the memories that make the most impact on our children. And in the end, these are all we can really leave with them. Things can be taken, broken, or lost; but memories are untouchable.
For over 15 years I worked at a clinical psychiatric unit for at-risk and suicidal children, and then as a foster care case manager with the state. So I can say with confidence that children hold on to memories; good and bad. We make memories whether we intend to or not, so it's in our best interest as parents to put some intentionality into it.
So this little beat up polaroid image remains a reminder of a man that took time to humor his son as much as he could. I can only hope to do the same, and maybe just a little more with my kids.
Make a memory