The lady and the bug.
I’m sitting in my treehouse bungalow on the coast of Oaxaca, which offers sweeping views of the Pacific and its rugged, mountainous shoreline. The hut itself is stuff dreams are made of, with a thatched roof, a built-in loft for meditation, sturdy hardwood floors and a graceful mosquito net that rivals any princess curtain I would have melted for as a child.
However, I’m done. I have had enough of nature. I’m ready to go back to the city.
All because of a bug.
It’s the size of a small child. When I saw it scuttling toward me, its deep brown hue nearly blending in with the floor, I sprung into action. I clamped a bowl down on it and one hour later, it’s still sitting there. The bug and the bowl, right near my kitchenette and uncomfortably close to my bed.
So I did what any single girl would do and I called my father.
(In case you haven’t been Instagram-introduced yet, I invite you to watch a few snippets of the ever-popular and in-high-demand Tony Show.)
Like I actually thought that somehow calling my dad was going to rid me of the bug, despite his being situated more than 3,000 miles away.
It made me feel better though. It’s as if I’ve gained an extra layer of protection against this mini monster in my room.
My father and I share a very unique, tumultuous, difficult albeit affectionate connection. It is, in a sense, the most profound relationship I’ve had. For years I’ve intentionally torn away layers myself so that I could just scratch the surface of understanding our dynamic. I’ve learned far more about life, love, and who I am through time spent (and not spent) with my father.
Maybe it’s not the perfect relationship, and maybe it’s not what either of us imagined it would be. It’s still beautiful. It’s deep. It’s inherently loving. It’s very important to me.
It’s full of things like:
Perfectly cooked vegetables and roasted potatoes
Obscure facts that have elusive origins (i.e. “Bethany. Did you know squirrels can bury peanuts, acorns, etc. in 50 different places and remember every one of them.” “Where’d you learn that?” “On the internet.”)
Copious amounts of coffee, all day and all night
Unfortunate online clothing purchases
Inquiries about the current status of various schoolmates I haven’t thought about in 20 - 30 years
Feisty discussions over politics that never end well
Afternoons on the beach with no sunscreen
Holding hands while crossing the street (because otherwise HE WILL JUST WALK RIGHT INTO THE ROAD)
Constant bickering about basically everything from cleaning to his shocking array of over-the-counter pharmaceuticals
Pops.
Thank you for always bringing me treats when you got home from work. Thank you for setting up the garage for us to watch storms together. Thank you for letting me have a slice of pizza in the car when we picked it up for dinner.
Thank you for teaching me how to be independent and confident. Thank you for showing me the importance of staying active.
Thank you for always picking me up, at any time of night, no questions asked. For saying yes when Mom said no. For going to the store for my feminine products. For influencing me to read biographies. For always telling me I’m beautiful. For opening doors for me. For your constant presence. For your humor. For your curiosity.
Thank you for getting rid of all the bugs.
I know it’s a bit early (April 5!) but why not start the celebration now.
Happy-Almost-Birthday.
I love you.
Bethany
