My Father's Gut

Things have been going pretty well, for the most part.  Last night we had London Broil - and it was pretty dang good.  Tonight we had turkey breast again.  We've been getting the Butterball Turkey Roasts and cooking those - they make a great dinner and lunch for several days.  Tonight I tried the herb infused version.  Mmmm.  Tasty bird.  And for the last two days, I have had salads for lunch.  I KNOW!!!  Willingly, too.  Heather and I (and Gabe) actually went to lunch yesterday at The Loop.  I KNOW!!!  An actual lunch with my wife.  Anyway, they had this salad there that I really liked.  So today I replicated it for  a third of the price.  Mine today had baby spinach leaves, broccoli, chicken, chopped almonds, and a very little bit of strawberry vinaigrette.  I'm enjoying this (most of the time) and venturing into new ways to make this work long term.

As I keep going through this process, I have been doing something very different this time than any other time.  I am talking to people about my thoughts and efforts.  In times past, I have tried to keep myself quiet a lot with my weight efforts.  It was kind of like, "If I don't tell a whole lot of people, then fewer people will know when I fail."  I have had times when I was open.  One time, when I working as editor of a Christian newspaper, I did record my efforts in articles there.  But it was pretty embarrassing when I bombed out a few months later.  That is one of the reasons I have been quieter in subsequent efforts.  This time, though, I haven't trumpeted anything.  But I do spend time talking to people close to me - to bounce off ideas and keep them updated.  This has really helped a lot - giving me ideas and options, and helping me to see things clearly.

The other day I had a talk with my mom about all of this.  It was after I wrote the post about Pizza.  We were talking about my father, and some very interesting things came out of that talk.  My father was a very large man.  At least in my mind, he was a large man.  At times, I realize that I weigh as much as he used to and wear the same size clothes.  That always freaks me out.  But as a kid, I remember him being big.  He was 6'5" and weighed 360 at his peak.  He used to lay on the couch and I would sit behind him on the couch - or lay on him.  [My kids do the same thing now.]  He also loved food.  He loved to eat a lot of food at a sitting.  He loved to eat out.

My dad was not an easy man to get along with.  He certainly had his share of faults (don't we all).  One of the things about him was that if you wanted to have any kind of relationship with my dad, you had to have it on his terms.  I tried to do that.  I would sit with him and watch football or movies.  I would hang out with him while he was grilling food out back.  And I definitely was game for his food affection.  When my mom and I were talking, she mentioned how that was a big deal with him.  It was a common ground that he considered very important.  I thought back and realized just how many stories I remembered that he told about food.  Eating too much fresh lettuce at a farm near his house.  Getting mashed potatoes thrown at him because he was being rude.  Helping end an "all you can eat prime rib" special at a restaurant because he took them seriously.

He was opinionated about food.  There were places he didn't like, so we usually didn't go there.  (Except for Red Robin, which he claimed he hated.  It was my favorite place.  So we still went there.)  He loved being able to get big steaks and baked potatoes.  I think his favorite places to go were places he could get a hunk of red meat, cooked medium rare.  Roadhouse.  Beefeaters.  Raindancer.  Manero's.  Once we got a little older, we were able to accompany my parents to Beefeaters.  It was awesome - their au gratin potatoes were the best I've ever had.  And I loved their steaks.  My dad would get the chateaubriand.  For two.  By himself.

You would think that my food issues would mimic his.  But that isn't actually the case.  My dad's favorite foods were steaks, prime rib, roast beef.  Those have always remained in the very seldom category for me.  I just don't feel well when I eat them too often, so they have remained luxuries.  I love Mexican food; he could take it or leave it.  We both liked Italian food and pizza, but I think my affections for those were stronger.  He drank a ton of coffee.  I never have been a coffee drinker.  My draw to soda was always way stronger than his - and he drank Diet anyway.  We both liked desserts - but different ones.  He preferred sausage, while I wanted bacon.  He liked sharp cheddar cheeses and I liked milder ones like American.  He loved meatloaf, pot roast, stews, and fish.  I hated all those things.  We both like burgers, but with different toppings.  And he ate vegetables - most of the ones he liked I detested (lima beans, turnips, rutabaga).  And, he always was a lover of alcoholic beverages - until he was forced to give them up for medical reasons.  I never have had alcohol at all.

It is kind of odd how being so similar in our draw to food that we were so different when it came to specific foods.  I am not sure all of the reasons behind that.  I know for a fact that a great deal of my life, my goal was to not become my dad.  I saw the things he did that were hurtful and wrong.  And I didn't want to become that kind of person.  So I made it my goal to not be him.  As I've said a lot of times, if you are just aiming to NOT be something, you can succeed in that and still be a failure because you end up being a different kind of awful.  I look at me as an adult and realize that as hard as I tried to NOT be my dad, I still ended up just like him in so many ways.  I look like him (except with hair).  I have similar anger issues that I have to fight all the time.  I am a storyteller like him (not a bad thing at all).  I snore loud, grunt when I stand up, read books like crazy.  And I have a major issue with food.  I doubt that subconsciously I was rejecting his foods to be different.  I wasn't that clever.  But it just goes to highlight the point.  Even though I didn't go through all the same doors as him, I ended up in the same exact place.  He may have gotten his food high through a big porterhouse while mine came through a deep dish pizza.  The end result was the same.

The truth of the matter, though, is that I am not my dad.  My mom has told me that.  My wife has told me that.  And my half-sister Mary wrote me that today in a beautiful letter that I'm sure she had no idea I desperately needed to read when she sent it.  Yes, I have many of his traits - some good and some bad.  But I also have something that he didn't have until very late in his life.  I have the power of Christ in me to change those things.  I can look at how much I've failed in my efforts to avoid being just like him.  I can let that beat me down.  Or I can look at the fact that I'm 35 and am actually making strong strides to fight those things.  Yes, some of our paths look very similar right now.  But there will be a divergence soon.  And then I'll be able to live decades free of those things that crippled him right up to the end.  That is what I have to hold on to.  There is hope.  Even though it may be a very tough battle to break those patterns and legacies, God will deliver me.

I love my dad.  I miss him.  I didn't agree with everything he did.  I don't know anyone who can say that they did agree with all their parents' actions and decisions.  But I still loved him.  And I loved those times we shared.  When my mom and I were talking about how I went to his territory on the food issue, I said, "You know.  I don't know if I would change that, though."  I would have missed too much.  Looking back, I can see how it has affected me.  And much of this struggle could have been avoided if I had not gone allied myself with his approach to food.  But much of my relationship with my dad also would have been erased.  And I wouldn't want that.  I actually was able to have a relatively good relationship with him and end things on good terms.  That is pretty rare in this world - and definitely not the norm in our family.  I wish that could have come sitting on the couch and just talking.  But it didn't.  I choose to look at this as a win-win for me.  I got to have a relationship with my dad, and now I get to fix those issues in me that he never could in him.  I'm just going to make sure my kids and I will meet on common ground that isn't strewn with steak bones and pizza crust.