In my office at home is a
framed photograph of my daughter Alison at age two looking straight out at the
world with dark eyes and a steely gaze that says “I am ready for whatever the
world wants to throw my way.” The black
& white photo was taken by my then father-in-law Hank Fagliano who somehow
captured, in that one moment, the personality and nature that was to develop in
this child who was born on Beethoven’s birthday.
I was 35 years old when she
was born and more than ready to take on the responsibilities of fatherdom. In those early years Ali,
her mom and I lived in a remote farmhouse on Tomales Point about 18 miles away
from the headquarters of Pt. Reyes National Seashore where I worked. It was an isolated existence that didn’t
always agree with us but it gave my daughter and I plenty of opportunities to
wander the headlands, explore the old farm buildings, feed the chickens, and
share in a somewhat idyllic childhood.
The imprint of that time period still sits fondly with both of us.
In time there was the move
to Arizona, the marital upheaval, the gut-wrenching separation that would bring
all of us back to Northern California.
And thereafter the desperate custody weekends when Ali and I would cram
every minute with father/daughter activities and moments. Then, before long, high school. Athletics. College. Independence The graduation into
adulthood. And now, a much anticipated
marriage at the end of this summer.
On top of our piano is
another photograph of me with my other daughter Lindsay. She is sitting against me and I am sitting
against a sandstone wall in an alcove on the Paria Plateau. I was nearly 50
when she was born on the same birth date as Groucho Marx. She became a reader. A talker.
An effervescent cultivator of nerdism.
An academic whiz. A lover of eclectic lists. There has been no marital
upheaval in her life so I’ve been able to experience parent nights at school,
band concerts, camping trips, her funny friends.. She understands that we are older than most
of her peers’ parents so that may explain why she treats us with so much kindness
and love.
Neither daughter has been
the typical “out of control” teenager in spite of countless admonitions and
doom & gloom forecasts from others.
Both have been happy to forge ahead and establish their identities, free
from coercion and with minimal guidance.
Both have given me love, hope and courage and a reason to believe in the
future. They are my friends. My heroines.
My daughters.
