Miss TLC
Dad bought another van yesterday. The old one is worn out. I worry about him on long distant jobs. Its a nice van... someone asked me what kind was it..I said, "Blue and Silver." Didn't really know the make until today... A Pontiac Montana. He's excited.
Before I went for coffee he told me that if someone calls and asks, to say he's the manager and not the owner of the studio. He's doing the early retirement. But when Dad tells me something, he tells it to me 5 times and gives scenarios. I go along with it...if I try to tell him I understand the first time, he gets mad.
So when I came back with the coffee, he goes over it one more time. I asked, "What if someone asks me who the owner is?
"Tell them its you."
I stared at him for a while. We've never sat down and discuss what to do about the studio once he fully retires. My instinct was to run...I found myself taking a few steps away. He laughed and said, "Where you going? Come back here."
Dad's plan has been to officially retire in Jan. Turn the business over to me, but stay on and help me manage it. He'll still do photography. How do I feel about this? I feel as if I'm being put in a cage now. The business will be mine but not really...he'll still want to do things his way. I know him. He'll say one thing for now...but the first time I have a different idea or plan to do something that he doesn't agree with...we'll butt heads.
When I first moved home, the plan was to be here until I got on my feet again after being so sick for so long. Then I met Charles and Dad started the studio. And so began my career. In 1993, I thought I would marry C and open my own business in Wilmington, but that didn't happen. When Al moved to Charlotte, I thought I would live there. I had several job opportunties but, as fate would have it I didn't move there.
Dad had a heart attack in 1997. And has come to rely on me to keep this place going. I know without me, he would never make it--and I'm not talking about career wise.
I never thought I would be here so long--in this town. Though the town has grown, it still holds the same attitude its had since I've been a teenager. I'm a dove, living in a murder of crows.
I feel as if I am the Nine of Pentacles--a secure woman with a career, living on a lovely estate--yet longing to be free.
The duties of a care-taker will forever be on my shoulders. I think the day I'll truly be free will be on my death bed.
Before I went for coffee he told me that if someone calls and asks, to say he's the manager and not the owner of the studio. He's doing the early retirement. But when Dad tells me something, he tells it to me 5 times and gives scenarios. I go along with it...if I try to tell him I understand the first time, he gets mad.
So when I came back with the coffee, he goes over it one more time. I asked, "What if someone asks me who the owner is?
"Tell them its you."
I stared at him for a while. We've never sat down and discuss what to do about the studio once he fully retires. My instinct was to run...I found myself taking a few steps away. He laughed and said, "Where you going? Come back here."
Dad's plan has been to officially retire in Jan. Turn the business over to me, but stay on and help me manage it. He'll still do photography. How do I feel about this? I feel as if I'm being put in a cage now. The business will be mine but not really...he'll still want to do things his way. I know him. He'll say one thing for now...but the first time I have a different idea or plan to do something that he doesn't agree with...we'll butt heads.
When I first moved home, the plan was to be here until I got on my feet again after being so sick for so long. Then I met Charles and Dad started the studio. And so began my career. In 1993, I thought I would marry C and open my own business in Wilmington, but that didn't happen. When Al moved to Charlotte, I thought I would live there. I had several job opportunties but, as fate would have it I didn't move there.
Dad had a heart attack in 1997. And has come to rely on me to keep this place going. I know without me, he would never make it--and I'm not talking about career wise.
I never thought I would be here so long--in this town. Though the town has grown, it still holds the same attitude its had since I've been a teenager. I'm a dove, living in a murder of crows.
I feel as if I am the Nine of Pentacles--a secure woman with a career, living on a lovely estate--yet longing to be free.
The duties of a care-taker will forever be on my shoulders. I think the day I'll truly be free will be on my death bed.
dribbled by Sherrie @ 10/30/2004 01:51:00 PM
1 Comments:
At 3:34 PM,
Bob said…
**hugs**
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