I just finished reading Kelly Corrigan’s book The Middle Place, which is her story of breast cancer intertwined with her father’s stuggle with bladder cancer. It is funny, revealing, and compelling. I love her writing, which alternates from wonderful storytelling to poignant realizations. She LOVES her daddy and I found myself underlining so many of her thoughts.
Her daddy is a powerful voice in her life. She adores him. At the beginning of this memoir she describes her daddy this way:
“He makes me feel smart, funny, and beautiful…He told me once that I was a great talker. And so I was. I was a conversationalist, along with creative, a notion he put in my head when I was in grade school…He defined me first, as parents do. Those early characterizations can become the shimmering self-image we embrace or the limited,stifling perception we rail against for a lifetime. In my case he sees me as I would like to be seen. In fact,I’m not even sure what’s true about me,since I have always chosen to believe his version. I could have gone either way…” (4)
And when she discovers her breast cancer, she says,”Calling home. Instinctively. Even when all the paperwork- a marriage license, a notarized deed, two birth certificates, and seven years of tax returns- clearly indicates you are an adult, but all the same, there you are, clutching the phone and thanking God that you’re still somebody’s daughter.” (5)
I couldn’t agree more. I have a daddy like this. And I am so grateful to be somebody’s daughter. Happy Father’s day to my Daddy. I love you!