A Reflection on Love and All the Things That We Cannot Control
A review of "Unmoored" by J.R. Roessl
A father feels both joy and terror when he brings his newborn daughter home from the hospital. I still remember clutching the handle of the car seat. We had an upstairs apartment and I feared becoming unbalanced and having the precious bundle slip from my grasp.
Everyday items become obstacles. You feel a need to be perfect. Your child deserves nothing less. The only problem is that your heightened focus only serves to illustrate how imperfect you truly are.
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The harder you grip on that handle, the more likely it is to get knocked away.
As happy as I was to be a new father, I was also terrified that one day my own children would grow to hate me. Eventually, I learned to put that fear aside. I think becoming a parent forces you to come to peace with all the things you cannot control.
I recognized all I could do was my best, and realizing that allowed me to relax. I held the handle loosely, but with greater security.
Unfortunately, not all fathers learn this lesson.
Growing up at sea
J.R. Roessl’s book Unmoored is about coming of age at sea. In 1969, her father constructed his own boat though he wasn’t an expert. Then he took his family on a voyage, though he didn’t really know how to sail. Along with her mother and her sisters, Roessl had the dual challenge of self-discovery and survival.
As I read the book, I experienced a kaleidoscope of emotions. Today, my own daughters are about the same age as Roessl was during this journey. Often, I wanted to reach through the pages and provide her with comfort, or a couple words of advice.
When you’re 15, it’s natural to give undue attention to unfair criticisms. I certainly remember dwelling on harsh and careless words when I was that age. Through a bizarre twist of reason, it sometimes feels most responsible to simply resign yourself to believing you are flawed.
That’s never true. But the misconception lives on despite the efforts of good people.
Roessl does a wonderful job of guiding the reader through the sometimes rough waters of transitioning from a child into an adult.
What does it mean to be present and involved?
Unlike other memoirs, you don’t get the sense that Roessl hates her father. There is perpetual sadness and conflict, but it’s not hatred. It’s melancholy.
The two of them had every opportunity to connect, and they failed to succeed.
For some context, I think it is useful to consider the inadequacies of the “father knows best” patriarchal model of that time. The expectation of infallibility takes its toll on us.
If you’re lucky, you come to the realization that your father criticized you in order to distract from his own shortcomings. That’s not a justification, but it is evidence that our ill-conceived expectations for gender roles can inflict devastating consequences.
In my own life, I’ve followed the guidance of simply doing the opposite of what my father would do.
When my own daughters sit down to color with crayons, I make a point of joining them. I take up my own crayons and make my own art. Then, instead of a dynamic of observation and criticism, we fall into collaboration. We try each other’s techniques. We congratulate our successes.
If you were raised on the ideology of “father knows best” then your child’s picture can never be more beautiful than yours. To avoid the risk of this happening, you don’t sit and color with them and all is lost.
The age of magic
When your kids are very small, the house is filled with magic. I remember how my own daughters used to squeal with delight at every wonder they discovered. Their eyes would get wide and the joy would radiate from their faces.
If you are wise, you learn to celebrate their energy. You discover you have to be a caretaker of that flame and try to keep it alive as long as possible.
But too many fathers are conditioned to believe it’s their responsibility to quench the light. “I’ve got to teach her about the real world or she’ll be vulnerable to the schemes of evil men.”
Unlike the other members of her family, Roessl began the voyage just as she was entering the transition period where magic stops being so tangible for a child. This is also the moment when the mythology of the parent begins to crumble.
The long hidden and denied imperfections become too overwhelming to ignore. If you’ve squandered your precious time as a parent teasing your child for her innocence instead of celebrating it, this is when lingering pain can turn into enduring resentment.
But Roessl discovered another teacher during that time, and she fell in love with the sea. Despite the hardships and the dangers of the journey, and the inadequacies of her father, she did draw a lifetime’s worth of inspiration from that experience.
She can’t help but recognize that her father’s sailing dream did succeed, even if it wasn’t in the way he might have hoped.
As you read the book you realize she’s appreciative, even if it’s a melancholy appreciation.
The mythology of self
There were so many things I identified with in this book. My own father shared many similarities with Roessl’s, to the point that sometimes I can’t discern whether I’m reading things into the story that might not be there.
There is a flawed model for fatherhood which leaves only pain it its wake and is all too prevalent, even celebrated, in our society.
The doomed father is a man who gets so caught up in the mythology of himself that he disregards any evidence that contradicts his vision. Once you set down that path, the denials begin to accumulate until you lose your connection to reality.
But the tragic thing is that this impulse comes from caring too much. It comes from a refusal to recognize how little we are in control. We don’t have to be perfect. We don’t have to grip the handle on the baby seat with such power that it causes us to become unbalanced and topple down the stairs.
Instead, pick up a crayon. Hold it lightly, and indulge in the act of creation with your children.
J.R. Roessl’s Unmoored is a powerful reflection on the potential for connection between fathers and daughters. It’s worth your time, particularly if you’re seeking guidance on how to avoid the little things that end up causing the most harm.
Grab a copy from the publisher here.
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