Reflective Essay

Reflective Essay
“Our Love Tradition” – Allie Ferris-Nichol

When I was younger, I didn’t have the best relationship with my parents. Don’t get me wrong, I loved them both very much. I was just more of a quiet and reserved child. All my friends were imaginative and wild; I suppose I was a little more, “grown up”. My mom and my dad were split up - they had been ever since I could remember. I never saw a problem with this; I understood they both loved me so I never really questioned it.

I was with my mom most of the time, during the week. I was with my dad on weekends. My dad and I were never really close. It’s not that he didn’t try, or that he didn’t love me, it’s just neither of us really liked to show our feelings. My dad and I weren’t all “lovey-dovey” like my mom was.

My dad always gave me a hug and said, “I love you”, it was just never with the same enthusiasm my mom had. I hardly ever said, “I love you” back - not because I didn’t love him, but because I found it somewhat awkward. I never knew how he would feel if I said I back, and the last thing I wanted to do was make him uncomfortable. Although my dad and I didn’t have the “OUT THERE” I love you relationship, we had smaller and simpler ways to show our love for each other that we were both comfortable with.

I can remember at the age of five, my mom would have friends over late into the night. I was shy so I always stayed in my room. One night my dad came over, a night I really needed him. Funny he came, it’s like he just knew. What I’m about to tell you is the defining moment in mine and my dad’s relationship. He came over at about seven in the evening, I was tired and my mom had all her friends over, music playing loud. My dad could sense I was scared, so he held my hand. Before this moment I can’t remember holding hands with such meaning behind it. He held my hand until I fell asleep.

I woke up the next morning and he was gone. My mom would never let him sleep over, although I wish she would have. After that night, my dad and I had a new tradition. From ages five to nine my dad would hold my hand until I fell asleep. Every night I remember trying to hold on a little tighter so that he would still be there when I woke up. I set a goal for myself to be able to hold on tight enough that he wouldn’t leave.

One night, I was squeezing as tightly as I could. My dad said, “You don’t have to hold on so tight honey, I’ll always be back again tomorrow night.” I suppose he just didn’t understand how badly I wanted him to be able to stay. Even though he told me I didn’t have to, I still always held his hand as tightly as possible. This was our little “love tradition”. Just knowing he’d come all the way to hold my hand, even though him and my mom didn’t get along… literally showed me how much he loved me. I know that holding on so tight told him just how much I loved him too.

I will never forget these nights with my dad. It’s how I label our relationship. Those nights were the nights that made me who I am today. My dad and I still don’t have that “lovey-dovey” relationship that my mom and I have. I’m fine with that, because those nights when we held hands always remind me how much we love each other.