Sharing TV, and Memories, with My Dad   2 comments

“So who would you pick to send home?” Dad asks from his cross-legged seat on the sofa.

“I’m going to go with the high schoolers,” I say.

We started watching it last December, just weeks after Mom died.  It was a way for us to remember her – a musician and a lover of great music – without having to bear up under the massive boulders of pain that were our grief.  We discussed who would make it each week, and at the end, I picked Streetcorner Symphony and Dad took Committed.  Dad won; I think he gloated secretly.

Tonight at about 7:30, I went out to Dad’s shop and reminded him, “Sing-off at 8.”  He smiled and said he’d be in.  We talked about who was good and why – we both liked Messiah’s Men for their story but knew they couldn’t really compete, and Dad loved the voice of the woman who sang lead for the Deltones.

At about 9pm, Dad goes up and makes up both hot chocolate, the kind with extra marshmallows, and I am reminded of all the Sunday nights the four of us – Mom, Dad, my brother, and I – sat and watched the Disney Sunday Movie with hot chocolate in hand and shag carpet under foot.  It was our way of being together before the work and school week began.  I can’t remember a single one of those movies, but I do remember watching them, all of us together.

Now, for two hours, Dad and I sit and enjoy the best a cappella groups TV can bring us. . . The Sing-Off is our thing together these days.

TV isn’t always my favorite  – but it can be a good thing, a way to heal, a way to grieve, a way to commune with each other and our memories.


2 responses to “Sharing TV, and Memories, with My Dad

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  1. There are ways to commune over tv, strange as that may sound. My husband and I love the music and dancing reality shows for just that reason. We enjoy rehashing the performances and alternately rejoicing or griping about the outcomes.

    I have wonderful memories of watching the Lawrence Welk show with my Great -Grandmother, sharing Coke’s and Frito’s corn chips 🙂 That was our bonding time, 1960’s style.

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