Actually, I had already teared up earlier in the movie. In "Grand Torino," Clint Eastwood plays Walt Kowalski as a somewhat hardened old veteran living in a changing urban world, forced by his immigrant neighbors to confront not only long-held prejudices, but the realities of life (and death) as well.
It was something Kowalski said (or the way he said it) that choked me up. Kowalski had been reflecting a bit with a persistent young priest about "life and death." When the priest asked Kowalski about his relationships, Kowalski lamented that he had never really gotten to know his two sons. "I never talked to them much," he admitted. "I didn't know how." That was the point where things got a little misty.
He didn't "know how?" Kowalski, who apparently had served his country in a brutal war and witnessed unspeakable things, didn't know how to relate to his sons.
I sneaked in a quick swipe across my cheeks and chin, pretending that my face itched. Nobody noticed anyway. Furthermore, I think the guy next to me, a man about my age, was quietly sobbing too.
Why was it this particular scene that bothered more than a few of us in the theater? Could it be that we realized, just then, that our rugged old fathers never knew how to relate to people, their families - and especially their sons? I always figured it was just a generational thing, like "big boys don't cry" and all that nonsense. As I sat there, I wonder if those big boys would have cried - if they had known how.
My dad did cry sometimes, it turns out. He just refused to do so in front of his sons. After all these years, Mom tells me that there were many occasions (more toward the end) when my Dad would weep. I was blown away the first time she mentioned it. I'm troubled, even now, by the thought that perhaps my Dad, our Dads, would have cried - if they could. I think for men of that generation, crying just wasn't acceptable, no matter what the circumstances. And frankly, I think that's a tragedy. Let's face it: we probably all grew up with Dads who stuffed emotions - or at least misplaced them.
Why was it this particular scene that bothered more than a few of us in the theater? Could it be that we realized, just then, that our rugged old fathers never knew how to relate to people, their families - and especially their sons? I always figured it was just a generational thing, like "big boys don't cry" and all that nonsense. As I sat there, I wonder if those big boys would have cried - if they had known how.
My dad did cry sometimes, it turns out. He just refused to do so in front of his sons. After all these years, Mom tells me that there were many occasions (more toward the end) when my Dad would weep. I was blown away the first time she mentioned it. I'm troubled, even now, by the thought that perhaps my Dad, our Dads, would have cried - if they could. I think for men of that generation, crying just wasn't acceptable, no matter what the circumstances. And frankly, I think that's a tragedy. Let's face it: we probably all grew up with Dads who stuffed emotions - or at least misplaced them.
If I had another opportunity, I'd like to have a chat with Dad. I wouldn't worry so much about seeing him cry, because frankly, that wasn't his thing. He and his peers didn't have the "tools" to do that sort of thing. Instead, I think I would rather spend more time just asking questions - and not just the same old "how 'ya feelin'" kind. I'd rather ask about the War, maybe what life was like in Korea. Or I would ask about the first car he owned. Or perhaps I'd ask him about the old dog he had as a kid. Or, maybe I'd ask what he thought the first time he met Mom, or even where they went on their first date and did he know that that Mom would be his wife? Guys like to talk, especially when it's about wars, cars, dogs or women. And, there's nothing wrong with that.
My hunch is that Dad would have liked those conversations. I'll bet yours would too. I hope you take the opportunity to talk - really talk - while you can. As the Class of 1975, our Dads aren't getting any younger. Have a conversation - or, better yet, have a whole bunch of them.
My hunch is that Dad would have liked those conversations. I'll bet yours would too. I hope you take the opportunity to talk - really talk - while you can. As the Class of 1975, our Dads aren't getting any younger. Have a conversation - or, better yet, have a whole bunch of them.
Cheers,
-Ken
