Skip to main content

Robe

I bought my dad a robe for Christmas. It was the softest, warmest, snuggliest robe I could find. My dad lives in his robe. He just retired. He'll be living in his robe even more. Not in a crazy, don't-do-anything-but-crosswords-and-yell-at-the-neighborkids sort of a way. Just in a finally-have-some-time-at-home-after-travelling-nonstop-for-the-last-15-years way.

As a little girl, I remember my dad would always make dinner, clean up, and change into his robe. We'd all go downstairs to play or draw or whatever and my dad would settle in to watch TV. Some nights, he'd make popcorn and I'd snuggle into the side of him. It was the best feeling in the whole world. It didn't matter what we watched. (Except the news. Or football. Those were not snuggling up programs. Those were stay-out-of-dad's-way-while-he-yells-at-the-TV shows.)

I'm a little hyphen-happy in this post-for-some-reason.

So anyway, I found this super snuggly robe and bought it for my dad. I wrapped it and put it under the tree where our kitty attacked it, tearing a hole in the paper and taking off with the ribbons. But I left it and waited for him to visit. Which he did.

Last time he was here we went to Strawberry Hot Springs. You have to walk quite a ways in your swim suit at this place and it can be quite chilly. A robe is so necessary for hot springing in winter. And hot springing in winter in and of itself is so necessary. My dad LOVED it. He almost for a split second thought about moving here for it.

Which says a lot. He's a big city guy. Opera, nice meals, lots of people, public transit, huge organizations of AA and whatnot to get involved in, more restaurants, plays, that's his scene.

We live in a small, mountain town with weird mountain characters that you run into overandoverandover again at the grocery store or wherever. Its rare I go anywhere without seeing someone I know. And I'm not all that social.

So anyway, I thought I'd get this super soft robe for him to keep at my house and always feel welcome and take to the hot springs and stuff. He opened it and loved it. Said, get this, he didn't have a robe right now. So he was super excited about this robe. It was the perfect color for his silvery goatee and the perfect size for his buddha belly.

My grandmother always kept toothbrushes for each of us at her house. It made it feel part yours. You were thought of. Planned for. Waited for. Wanted. Loved.

I hoped my dad would feel the same way about his robe.

He decided to go to Target to buy another one, so he could have one at home and one at my house. He bought me one too.

Last night I was soooooo cold. I just couldn't get warm. I had my down comforter wrapped around me and down slippers on and the cat but it just wasn't cutting it. So I wrapped up in my robe and read myself to sleep.

It made me feel warm. And snuggled and thought of. Planned for. Waited for. Wanted. Loved.

Comments

  1. This is the robe man...what a poignant posting, Karin...I remember those nights snuggled with you hoping you'd never grow up and leave and marry and get another person to snuggle with yet knowing it would happen and now knowing it's a good situation for you.

    But more about the robe...yes Strawberry Springs DID turn my head but yes I'm the urban architype I guess but as I age the crazy life of the city makes mme long for some simpler easier places so don't be suprised if I make a change some time. For now I'm sitting here, IN MY ROBE, warm and safe in anticipation of a big snow heading its way into Chicago today and tomorrow...I'm warm and snug and wanted and loved and always your DAD.

    Much love, Princess.

    Dad

    ReplyDelete
  2. Yes, Karin. You were planned for. waited for. wanted and loved. still are!
    MOM

    ReplyDelete
  3. This post is like a warm snuggle. Thanks for sharing. Love this.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I've been thinking about this post since you wrote it, and wanted to come up with the perfect words about why I love it so much.

    I couldn't.

    So I came to say that.

    And then I saw what your mom and dad wrote and now I'm all teary. At work. Cute.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Wow. What a beautiful write-up. And equally great are the response from your parents.

    God Bless.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Dear Book Pimp

So I wrote this book and I think it's pretty decent. That's the feedback I'm getting anyway, which is bitchin' really since I have a degree in Education, NOT writing. Plus, this is my first try, so really I should be happy, right? But, turns out writing the book is maybe the easy part. The publishing is another story. You have to find a Literary Agent. To do this, you have to write a 1-3 page letter to many literary agents to convince them to read a sample chapter. Send it with a Self addressed stamped envelope (SASE) and wait. there's more but I'm already experiencing a high level anxiety just writing about this part. In my letter, I'm supposed to explain who I am, what my book's about, why I'm qualified to write it, why its sicky illy good, who'll read it, and on and on. AHHHHHhhhhh! This shit scares me. Also, I'm supposed to be witty, clever, literary, and junk. Oh and explain a 300 page book in a sales pitch. I'm not a frea...

Home birth- The real fuckin deal

So the end of pregnancy is for the fuckin birds. I'm sure plenty of you out there know this. There's nothing to say but that you're sick of being pregnant. You're a little sick of the sweet smiles and knowing looks from strangers. You're just all over sick of it. You're spectacularly sick of the: when's your due date how far are you are you having a boy or a girl I bet you're sick of this what hospital are you going to, conversations. You miss when people used to ask about the soccer game you played or the book you're reading. You're sick of swollen handsfeetfaceneckanklesEVERYTHING. Oh and from the beginning of pregnancy until FRIDAY, I had NO stretch marks. Friday my entire lower abdomen erupted into one. giant. stretch mark. So all weekend, I thought, please let this be over soon. Every cramp I felt I welcomed and thought, "whatever work my body does now, it doesn't have to do during labor." Little did I know how much ...

Having Babies at Home

My whole life, I've heard the story of my cousin Anna's birth. And her sister's too. But I hear more about Anna's. My aunt didn't exactly have a lot of love for the medical profession. And her first baby had been a horrible experience. She'd had him wrenched from her at least as much as she "gave him up" for adoption by nursing staff who leered at her and called her unpleasant names. And she loved him when he was born. And she found him when he turned 18 and loved him till the day she died. When she had kids for keeps, she did it differently. She read books and assigned duties and had them at home. She was brave and surely faced many people who disagreed with her decision. But she stuck by her convictions and her desire for a natural birth and won 2 beautiful girls. My mom was there when Anna was born. So was her sister, Kristina. They both still get this sparkle in their eyes whenever they talk about it. My mom says it was one of the most ...