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18 WWW.UNWLA.ORG “НАШЕ ЖИТТЯ”, ЧЕРВЕНЬ 2019 A DAUGHTER REMEMBERS by Irena Gramiak I was driving with my husband one day when a song came on the radio . I t was Tina Turner's "What's love got to do with it . " As I jumped to turn up the vo lume , I said with a smile, "This song always reminds me of my Tato . " I couldn't understand the confused look on my husband’s face, until I realized, " O h, that's right, he doesn't know the story . " And besides, "What's love got to do with it" is not exactly a fa- t her - daughter type song. But for me, this one def- initely was. When I was in h igh s chool my Tato drove me to school each morning. Back then I figured he did it just to keep me safe and away from Philadel- phia public transportation . T hough that might hav e been part of it, I now understand that those drives were a way for him to spend time with me. A s a teenage girl I naturally talked to my Mama a lot. She knew the names of all my school friends, what I had for lunch and even which teac hers I liked or disl iked. Those private drives into school allowed my Tato to spend some time with me and to stay as connected in my life as my Mama was. I have to give him a lot of credit ; many fathers are afraid to talk to their teenage daughters especia lly about boys and f eeling, but my Tato did this . As hard as it must have been for him , he spoke to me openly and honestly and there was no question I couldn't ask no matter how embarrassing it was for him. His standard answer , “because boys are idiots , ” a lways broke any awkw ard tension and made us both laugh. Those morning car rides were more special than I realized at the time. One particular morning I was completely down , and it was the fault of a boy. Today, I hon- estly don't remember the boy or the sit uation, but I defini tely remember that feeling. When you're 16 and fall for a boy it's like jumping off a cliff and soaring through the sky — everything is amazing and beautiful until reality hits you in the face like the rocks of the canyon floor below. Tha t was me. So there I was, s itting in the passenger seat with my splattered heart on my sleeve , staring out the window into the nothingness that was my life, heartbroken with no hope of ever recovering. (When you're 16 everything is so dramatic . ) My Tato h ated to see me sad , so after dis- missing his initial plan of killing said boy who had made me sad, he turned to plan B: finding a way to cheer me up. As luck would have it, "What's love got to do with it" started playing on the car radio . He cranked up the dial and started bel ting out the lyrics with hand moves and other strange gyra- tions . He looked so ridiculous that I couldn't help but laugh. For those few moments I completely forgot about my broken heart and joined my Tato singing and laughing. I can only imag in e what we must have looked like to the other drivers that were stuck in morning traffic alongside us. But for those few moments the rest of the world outside of th e minivan we were sitting in didn't exist for us . There were no bills, no taxes, no home work as- signments or stupid boys. There w ere just the two of us (and Tina Turner). By the time we pulled up to school I actually felt better. I thanked him and kissed him goodbye. I walked into school feeling as if I could overcome anything life threw at me , all because of my Tato and Tina Turner. Well, my h igh s chool years went by quickly , and those morning drives to school came to an end, but our talks never did. We continued our conversations , and as the years pas sed, they became less about boys and scho ol and more about ou r respective interests, politics and world affairs. And a s I grew older , the tone of our talks changed from father/daughter conversation s to talks between two friends. He respected my ideas and opinions , and I valued his advice and guid- ance. My Tato has b een gone for ten years now , and I still talk to him. Our conversations are one sided now, but occasionally I can still hear his words of advice and encouragement. And e very time I hear that Tina Turner s ong I can't help but smile and sing along . A nd I know with my whole heart that my Tato is singing along right beside me. Memory is the treasure and guardian of all things. – Cicero, 55 B.C. In memory, everything seems to happ en to music. – Tennessee Williams, 1945
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