Page 43 of Illegal Formation
No comment.
“No,” I answered.
“Gambling?”
Define gambling, because with a risk and reward here…
“No, Dad. Nothing dangerous like that.”
“Okay,” he said after a moment, considering. “It’s kind of hard to go off the vague language, but if it’s not dangerous to your health, I guess my next question would be — what do you think you could have with this thing that you don’t have now?”
I sipped my protein shake, thinking.
“Spontaneity,” I answered carefully. “Fun.” I thought of Emily’s deep brown eyes, of her dazzling smile, the way she loved to press my buttons. “Joy.”
“Mm, well this thing doesn’t sound so bad.”
“It’s not. But I can’t have it.”
“Why not?”
“It could jeopardize my career.”
“And you’re sure it isn’t drugs?”
I chuckled. “Promise, Dad.”
He made a noise like he was pondering, a deep hum. It reminded me of when he’d pretend to be torn on whether or not to give me and Ginny ice cream when we asked.
He’d made that same sound on the last day before Ginny’s diagnosis, a day that was brazened in my memory forever. We’d run up and asked to blow fireworks off, and he’d made that deep hum before giving in. Those Roman candles and sparklers had lit up my sister’s face all night.
We had no idea how bad her cold was, that it would end up being something that changed the course of all our lives the very next day.
“Well, I know how important football is to you,” Dad said. “And I know that you have bills to pay as an adult.”
The weight of those words settled heavy on my chest, all the things I’d carelessly forgotten rushing back to the surface.
“So, I guess if I were being a responsible parent, I’d tell you to do whatever it takes to walk away from this thing. Practice self-discipline. Get on your mat and lock into the present moment.”
Dad was into yoga and meditation just like I was. He was the one to teach me. When things got too heavy, he’d always pull out his mat and ground himself. And after that summer, I found myself setting up on the floor next to him, desperate to find some sort of peace.
When I’d learned how freeing it could be to let your thoughts go, to break up with anxiety and focus on what you could control… it was life changing.
I’d practiced daily ever since.
“But if I were your friend,” he continued. “I think I might tell you to weigh the risk and the reward, and if you can have this thing and not put anyone else in danger, and get away with it… well, maybe it might be fun. You deserve some fun. Some…spontaneity,as you said.”
I smiled, even though he couldn’t see me. “Thanks, Dad.”
“Did I help?”
I sighed then, chugging the rest of my protein shake. “I don’t know if anyone can help, but you gave me space to be heard. And that’s enough.”
“You sound stressed, son.”
“A bit,” I admitted.
“What do we say when we’re stressed?”
