“Daddy, why is this lamp so important to you?”
I chuckled as I finished dusting and adjusting the shade. One glance at my daughter, Katie, told me she was dead serious so I took a seat beside her on the couch. Looking in her eyes, I saw the same soft brown eyes reflecting the same inquisitiveness that drove her mother. I smiled.
“So?” she prodded.
I asked, “When you look at that lamp, what do you see?”
She responded “Well Daddy, I see a lamp. It’s pretty but a little too masculine for my tastes but it’s warm in that manly kind of way.”
Here’s what I see when I look at it, I see the white light it casts and the glossy black trim that reflects that light and it’s all very utilitarian. Then I see the solid wood in that warm honey golden color and that’s where life and memories reside.
“Memories?” she encouraged.
I remember when Kathleen and I first started dating and the first time we sat on the couch and drank wine together; the light from that lamp was our chaperone. Kathleen always put soft music on in the background and we’d stretch out on the couch facing each other with our legs intertwined and our backs against the arm rests. The room would be dark except for the soft glow of this lamp from across the room and maybe a candle or two so we could see where to set our wine glasses.
That lamp has also lit up some funny things.
“Oh God Daddy, what did you do?” (a question I hear frequently from my daughters)
Well, early on in our dating, it was during Lent and I wasn’t drinking so our evenings usually ended at a respectful hour. One evening as I prepared to leave, we were standing in her foyer saying our goodbyes and I noticed she had a print of Picasso’s Le Rêve hanging next to her front door and I chided her for having “The Dick Pick” out where everyone could see it. Of course, Kathleen questioned me until I pointed out the position of the model’s hands and what was “top of her mind” and then there was the “OMG! I raised my daughters with that hanging there!” I chuckled all the way home.
Kathleen and I shared many a long night of fun and deep conversations guided by the glow of that lamp.
“Like what, Daddy?”
The first time I told Kathleen about you. I told her about how your mother and I met, about my six-year affair with your mom, about the unexpected pregnancy, what your mother taught me about being loved and what real love looked like; what our priorities were with raising you and how we coparented; I told Kathleen everything. She was the first person I ever told of my affair with your mom and it scared me to tell her because I didn’t want to lose her.
“What else, Daddy?”
It was under this lamp that I learned that “Chardonnay was my friend!”
As my daughter cast a wary look my way, I explained. When Kathleen has a little too much Chardonnay she tends to talk more about her feelings, her hopes and dreams and shares stories of her past that she normally keeps tucked away. One morning after a late night of too much wine and some wonderful conversations, I mentioned something Kathleen had said she responded with “God! I can’t believe I told you that!” and I jokingly responded with “Chardonnay is my friend” and we both chuckled.
That lamp has also been witness to a few good arguments between us and, likewise, it has offered light as we found a way to put those difficult moments behind us. That lamp was on when we broke up. It was also on when I was too sick to care for myself and she took me in and cared for me.
When I left her and moved to TN to be nearer to you and Alex, she offered me the lamp. She said she was tired of it but I think that wasn’t her real reason. So, I gladly accepted her gift and now, it sits here casting a soft glow over us as we sit on this couch and have these wonderful conversations. Every now and again when Kathleen and I can borrow a few moments to Facetime together, the lamp sits there providing that old familiar light as we catch up on the latest happenings.
So, while you see a lamp, I see a guiding light, a reminder of what love is, of enduring friendship. I see memories.
“Damnit Daddy, I've been wanting to redecorate mine and Hubbys den and he doesn't want to. Now, I'm thinking of all the long talks we've had under our lamp and I’ll never be able to look at it the same way! Maybe, not everything needs to be changed.”
I just looked at her and smiled.