Some things we pick up from our fathers — other things we yearn to absorb, but simply can’t. A lovely meditation from Davon Loeb, who finds the perfect symbolic childhood episode to plumb the gaps between a father’s love and a son’s need.
I wanted to be that kid. I wanted to like cars and the smell of gasoline. I wanted to like making trips to Home Depot to search the aisles as if looking for ourselves: our eyes in the shades of paint, our skin tones in the wood, and our hearts in the steel frames of rolling red tool chests. I wanted to look like Dad, to think like Dad, to be like Dad. I wanted to have the same last name as him. But none of those things were possible.
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