The Father's Son

by Jim Sano

  “I can imagine that setup being difficult and almost impersonal. If it were me, I’d want a big old bear hug. I see you brought your notebook today.”

  “I didn’t think it was optional. I think what you really want to ask is if I did the exercise you asked me to do.”

  Grinning, Tom asked, “Now that you mention it, were you able to spend some time with it?”

  David opened the book to the pages he had written. “I did. I didn’t want to do it. I hadn’t planned to do it, but putting my thoughts on paper made me think about things a bit.”

  “That’s good, and that’s the intent. Is there anything you’d like to share?”

  David hesitated but finally answered, “I was thinking I was ready, but I’m not so sure right now.”

  Tom nodded. “Let me ask you this. Do you ever feel anxious about anything?”

  “Sometimes. Doesn’t everyone feel a little nervous or anxious before a big event?”

  “Sure. What types of situations make you feel the most anxious?”

  *****

  David had to think a bit. He had never admitted these feelings to anyone before.

  “Were you nervous or anxious before that tournament basketball game in high school?”

  David wanted to say he was just a little nervous, but out came, “Anxious. I was very anxious going into that game.”

  “You played like a demon on fire in that game. I don’t think I’ve seen that level of fight from anyone else. It was a great game, but why do you think you felt so anxious before the game?”

  “I don’t know.” David shrugged. “I didn’t want to lose.”

  “You’re very competitive. There is healthy anxiety and unhealthy anxiety. Think of running into a grizzly bear on a camping trip—healthy anxiety, whereas unhealthy anxiety comes from our thoughts that are a bit distorted. Our feelings come from our thoughts and our thoughts come from our beliefs. It’s that underlying belief that is often the culprit of our anxieties.”

  “I never thought about the connection.”

  “So, the thought of losing the game made you feel highly anxious. What would’ve happened if you lost the game?”

  David chuckled. “We did. I thought if we lost the game people would think I was to blame, and I wasn’t as good a player as they thought.”

  “So, what if you lost, and it was your fault, or you weren’t as good as everyone believed, how would that make you feel?”

  “If I didn’t succeed, and I wasn’t the player they thought, then people would see me differently.”

  “So, what if they saw you differently? What if they thought less of you? How would that make you feel?”

  David hesitated. “I’d feel like a loser. Like I was less.”

  “How about at work, now? You are incredibly successful and respected. Do you ever get anxious at work?”

  David took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Sure.”

  “When do you feel the most anxious?”

  “Mostly before each new quarter when we have to produce results again.”

  “But I heard you beat your plan every single quarter and by higher margins than anyone else in the company.”

  “Sure, but if I missed a quarter—”

  Tom shrugged. “What if you missed a quarter? How would you feel?”

  “Like people would see I’d been lucky or a phony all along and I wasn’t as good as they thought.”

  “So, what if you were just like everyone else, doing his best but not always succeeding?”

  David stared ahead blankly. “I’d feel like a loser, as though I was less than everyone else.” David knew he hid these feelings so well, he expected Tom to be floored by this admission and that he would see him in a lesser light, but Tom didn’t seem surprised.

  “Feelings of anxiety and depression have been growing by leaps and bounds in the world with more and more people feeling disconnected, empty, and without a sense of meaning to give them a reason for being. Part of your drive and fear of failure may come from what you suffered as a boy. I do know one thing that you may not know.”

  David said, “And what’s that?”

  “You could never be a loser or less than anyone else.”

  David clenched his teeth for a moment, debating whether to speak his mind, but who better to say it to than Tom? “What has been confusing me is the distinction between being a winner and being respected. It all seemed to have gotten turned upside down when I saw my father. I went from ‘What do I not have?’ to ‘What kind of man am I, in terms of what really matters?’ All my effort and success up to this point suddenly seems worthless next to the values that my father has lived by. It’s getting harder to process my life lately.” Saying it aloud didn’t have the sense of relief he expected. Instead, he tensed at having shown his vulnerability. Just putting it out there made his flaws more real, made his life look worthless.

  Tom watched him closely. “While that may feel uncomfortable, it may actually indicate good things going on.” They both sat mulling things over for a few minutes, then Tom pointed to David’s notebook. “Do you feel any more comfortable to share your exercise?”

  The anxiety and indecision percolating in David rose up. He’d already said enough. He felt worse for the discussion, not better. “I already said no!”

  Tom leaned back and relaxed in his chair. “That’s okay. You have to be ready to participate in making any inroads. Why don’t we stop for today? Maybe you could spend the week thinking about what you wrote and any other areas that are bothering you or making you anxious and write them down. Also, see if you could write down two or three goals in terms of what you would like to make better.”

  “Why are we cutting this off so early?”

  “I think this is hard stuff. I don’t think you’ve ever been shy about hard work, but it’s also scary stuff and resistance to really participating and doing the work is a fairly normal instinct. See if you can spend some time writing out more about what bothers you the most and what thoughts are behind those feelings. Then peel the onion back another layer or two to see what feeling comes up if you ask yourself, ‘What if that thought were true?’ Finally, decide what benefits and costs there are to avoiding those feelings and what goals you have for this therapy. When you’re ready to do that, we can get back together and see what’s what. Did you ever see the movie The Untouchables?”

  As David was putting on his coat, he asked, “The one with Costner, Connery, and DeNiro?”

  “That’s the one. Do you remember what Sean Connery said to Kevin Costner when he wanted to break up Capone’s ring?”

  David nodded as he started heading out the door. “Yes, I do.”

  Tom’s best Sean Connery impersonation followed him out the door. “What are you prepared to do?”

  Chapter 50

  David walked home feeling agitated but couldn’t understand why. He went into his study with Trooper and then took out his notebook and pen. “So, Trooper, what do you think bothers me the most?”

  Trooper tilted his head with worried eyes. David started writing whatever came into his mind.

  WHEN PEOPLE LIE

  PEOPLE WHO DON’T DO WHAT THEY PROMISE

  MISSING A COMMITMENT

  LOSING AT ANYTHING

  Then David thought about each one. He wrote: How do I feel when someone lies? I feel impatient. Why do I feel impatient when people lie? He had to think about that for a while before he wrote: I think when you lie to someone, you don’t have respect for them. How does that make me feel? I feel more upset and even angry. Why do I feel angry? I DON’T KNOW. David had similar results with the other items on his list. How could he write goals if he didn’t know what the problem was? He tried anyway to keep Tom happy.

  GOALS

  LEARN TO TRUST PEOPLE CLOSE TO ME

  BE LESS ANXIOUS ABOUT THINGS

  BE THE MAN MY FATHER WOULD BE PROUD OF

  David closed his notebook but didn’t feel any better. He tried working out in his exerci
se room to get tired enough to sleep, but he tossed and turned throughout the night.

  The morning arrived crisp and cold, and David thought a run might do him good and help him to get out of his head. He ran a five-mile loop around town, up and down different streets until he stopped at the Eastside to warm up and get a cup of coffee. When he walked into the cafe, Linda dropped her ordering pad and her jaw, and with an exaggerated eye-roll yelled to the kitchen. “Well, well, well, look who the cat dragged in! I thought you fell off the face of the earth.”

  David sat at the counter. “Linda, I’m crawling back on my knees. How could I desert you? Where else would I get this kind of friendly service?”

  Linda picked up her order pad, leaned on the counter, and peered at David over her glasses.

  David knew the routine. “The usual.”

  Linda said, “The usual you have been having the past several months or the usual usual?”

  “The usual usual.”

  Linda came back with his coffee and shortly afterward his two eggs over easy, rye toast, and home fries. The comfort of familiarity was making him feel better.

  David had no plans and was starting to feel anxious about spending the day alone with unresolved feelings. He knew he couldn’t wait until the following week to address his conflicting feelings, so he showered and changed quickly, grabbed his notebook, and headed over to St. Anthony’s to see if Tom could spare a few moments.

  Tom paused at the sight of him. “Are you really this much of a glutton for punishment?”

  “I’m sorry for showing up like this, but I just need a few minutes to talk.”

  Tom waved toward the door. “Let’s go in so we don’t freeze before you get to say what’s on your mind.” Tom made some coffee and they moved into his office to sit.

  “So, what’s on your mind? You seem a bit upset.”

  “I know I’ve been resisting your help. I don’t know why, but I did try to do the exercises you gave me, and it only got me more confused and agitated. Shouldn’t I be feeling better looking under the covers a bit?”

  “Absolutely not. If you were feeling nice and comfortable at this point, you wouldn’t be seriously looking at anything meaningful.” Tom pointed to David’s notebook. “Do you know why you brought that with you today?”

  “Well, as much as I don’t feel like doing this, I think I should share what I’ve written.”

  Tom sat forward in his chair and took a sip of his coffee. “Why the change of heart?”

  “Does it really matter?”

  “It could matter, but let’s not dwell on it.”

  David opened his notebook. “You asked me to write down what things I’d like to free myself from, change, or just understand. I wrote, ‘Trust, Father, Mother and Alone.’ I don't know why I wrote those down, they just came out. I started with ‘trust’ and looked at the benefits and the costs, and what I wrote in each column struck me.”

  “What struck you the most?”

  “If I have to be honest with myself, the benefits of not trusting people was all about protecting myself and the costs were all about the loss of close relationships and hurting people who have tried to love me. I was surprised by the costs.”

  “That’s impressively honest and insightful. What does it make you want to do?”

  “I don’t know. That’s why I’m here.”

  “Do you think that ‘trust’ and ‘alone’ are connected to the other words you wrote?”

  “I really don’t know. I don’t know why I wrote them down either.”

  “You said that things with both your dad and mom were good before the tragedy; do I have that right?”

  David thought back to those days when his family was together and relationships seemed safe. “This is a child’s memory, but it was good. It felt safe, and I was happy. I loved my parents, and I always felt like they loved me.”

  “That’s a good way to feel. After Jimmy’s death and your father was charged, tell me what changed.”

  David stared at the wall. “Everything changed. The world tipped upside down. It felt so confusing, and I felt paralyzed that this can’t be happening. I felt physically ill for the longest time. I remember my heart feeling as if it were ripped right out of my chest and was being stomped on by the people around me. Before that, I trusted my father more than anyone in the world. Then, everything felt like a fraud, as though I’d been lied to all along. It didn’t make any sense to me. Nothing did.”

  Tom said, “You told me once that your mother changed.”

  “I didn’t recognize her. Her smile, her laugh, her softness and affection all left her. She became bitter and almost cold with my brother, sister, and me. She’d say, ‘Be strong and succeed, and no one can hurt you again.’ Her anger at my father was always close to the surface and her feelings about God or anything Catholic were always overtly negative.”

  “What were the strongest feelings you were having at that time?”

  David crossed his arms and held his jaw in his left hand as he thought back and pictured himself with the charred remains of his family.

  David answered, “I don’t know. She told us we were moving out of Boston, to Lynn, and our old life was dead. We never saw our grandparents or anyone who knew us from the neighborhoods in the North End or Savin Hill again, kind of like the witness protection program. We changed our name and never talked about what happened, to anyone. Mom went to work full-time at GE and made sure we had food on the table.”

  “I can imagine that being overwhelming for anybody, never mind when you were only eight. Do you remember any feelings you had specifically about your mom other than noticing a sharp change in her personality and your relationship?”

  David knew he’d been overloaded or flooded with feelings at that time and worked hard, even to this day, to avoid that emotional flooding. “I don’t really know what I felt towards her. I felt lost. The transition to the new neighborhood and school was tough. After several years, I remember reaching the point where I had to make a decision about pushing to move forward with strength or continue to wallow and sink further into the pit. Hard work and a focus on success became all-consuming and seemed to resonate with my mother. It was the only time I felt accepted by her. I felt as if I were on my own to make it in the world. I focused on excelling in sports, school, and anything else I began to do. It felt empowering and safe. I stopped feeling like a victim; I could be in charge of my life.”

  “David, are you saying you felt nothing in relationship to your mom during this period?”

  He didn’t know what the feelings were, but he knew they were there. David shook his head and felt as though he was drifting off to avoid thinking about it.

  Tom raised his mug. “Do you need any more coffee or anything?”

  David shook his head.

  “Do you remember your feelings about your dad right after the event?”

  David could remember himself feeling numb and completely disoriented in the days after Jimmy’s death and his father’s arrest. Police were coming in and out, questioning family members, questions he couldn’t answer.

  David glanced up at Tom. “Immediately afterward, I felt devastated, confused, and shocked. I didn’t know what I felt towards my father other than confusion and conflict. I think those feelings moved to dislike and indifference as I started focusing on my own success—more like an island that was solid enough to survive any storm that passed its way.”

  Tom stood up for a minute and went to look out the window. “I can understand the incredible shock of what happened to you as a very young boy. There wasn’t only a break in trust, but you lost your brother, your father, and in no small way, your mother and siblings. You also lost all of your sense of community and extended family connections, all at the same time. You may have experienced very strong withdrawal to cope and emotionally survive, but it doesn’t mean that strong feelings weren’t there.” Tom sat back down. “Tell me your feelings when your mother passed away.”

 
“I’m not proud to say this, but I didn’t feel anything really, except feeling bad for her since I don’t think she could enjoy life for all those years.”

  “Take nothing I ask as a sign of disrespect, but did you feel any sense of relief when she passed away?”

  David stared down at the floor for quite a while and finally said, “Yes.”

  “For her or for yourself?”

  David hesitated, feeling ashamed. “For me.”

  “When you found out that your father had terminal cancer, did any part of you feel a similar sense of relief?”

  David was taken aback by his question. “I’m sorry, what are you asking me?”

  “Our feelings are just that. They’re not a judgment of you or your father. I was just curious if you felt any sense of relief, not because you don’t care about him or want him to die. There are many layers of things going on—joy that he is alive and innocent, but also the challenge of trying to get to know someone that is somewhat of a stranger and someone you want desperately to be proud of you. I’d expect that you’d have a million thoughts and feelings going in different directions at the same time.”

  David nodded almost imperceptibly. “I did. I felt a sense of relief and panic at the same time because there may be so little time left. I felt ashamed once I found out about his condition.”

  Tom made a few notes on the pad he had on his lap. “Have you ever experienced stronger feelings than a dislike for either your father or your mother?”

  “What do you mean exactly by stronger feelings?”

  “I don’t know exactly. Love, trust, and security are so important to a young boy. You may have felt ashamed, betrayed, hurt, and afraid. It is also possible that anyone in this situation would even feel hate for their parents, wishing they were dead.”

  David was feeling highly uncomfortable and he didn’t want to continue the discussion down that path. He sat silently composing himself before responding. “I don’t know where this is going. Why would I ever hate my parents or wish they were dead?”