Occurred to me last night - after finishing writing my post, as I was headed to bed - that the first older person who found me safe to confide in was my father. Of course, at 61, he was just at the upper reaches of middle age, but to me, at 21, he was O-L-D, as a grannie client would spell out.
I'd been to Glenn & Joel Pitcairn's for a Christmas holiday party. In spite of the late hour, Dad had swung by to pick me up. (I didn't have my driver's license yet - weird reason - and wouldn't for another couple years.)
On the drive home, he shared with me how much he was looking forward to the holiday he & Mom were taking in February, because he was really tired & for the first time ever felt the need for "down" time from his business (he owned a lumberyard, Lockhart Lumber). What he didn't share were the headaches he was suffering. That, he kept from me. And those headaches would take him from us within three months. But he shared that he felt less than top notch, and that was remarkable for him.
It wasn't until after I'd written about another, genuinely older person confiding a health issue that it struck me fully how safe Dad had to feel with me in order to tell me he was deep-in-the-bone tired, that he needed rest.
What wrapped itself around my heart was realizing that my father felt safe with me. At 62, I realize something that never would have occurred to my just-turned-legal young self - that no one else in my family shared his sense of safety with me. Not Mim, not Peter, certainly & emphatically not Mom. But Dad did. Someone did. Knowing that my Dad was the first "older" to show how safe he felt with me means more than I can express.
A mega revelation through a small moment with a dearly beloved elder (which David W. surely is). A special blessing connecting two special men.
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