At church today, we celebrated All Saints Day. The children decorated candles and food and placed messages at an altar. We prayed and remembered the dead; I honored my father, Tommy Farley, which I have been doing a lot lately. I wish that I had honored him more when he was alive, but I am grateful that I have done it now. I understand him better, and I understand myself better.
Originally, I planned this post for October 7th. When Irving Penn died on my father's birthday, I decided to write about Penn and write about my father later. If you look at the original sequencing, you can see that "Big Coach/Small World" would have preceded "Small Town, USA." In the Big Coach/Small World post, I mentioned that I enjoy sequencing my blog postings. I like order, even if it is playful. Death disrupts order. Death creates a new order. Death is significant, and I am fortunate that I have learned to honor it.
I am also fortunate that I have learned to honor my father. One of the first times I can remember honoring my father was five months ago. I took my five year old daughter to see how our government worked. The California Supreme Court decided the Proposition 8 court case; protesters were waiting in San Francisco for the results. I wanted my daughter to see history, but even a five year old could see that our government is dysfunctional. My daughter saw grown ups yelling and screaming, acting childish and selfish. If she had acted that way, she would have received a time out.
I cherish the First Amendment. I think everyone should experience Freedom of Religion. Everyone should also have the right to free speech. This does not mean that everyone should use the freedom all the time. Why do so many people use their freedom to speak without listening? The noise is deafening. After the result was announced, one woman yelled, "California sucks!" My daughter didn't understand. My daughter didn't care who won the case. She wondered about the place where she lived and the people that were screaming.
I looked at the protesters through my daughter's eyes, and was saddened too. Can't we have Freedom of Religion and freedom to marry who we want? Can't we have the freedom of speech and the ability to listen respectfully? Can't both sides be right? Why must both sides be wrong?
I thought that all was lost, until I noticed the California Highway Patrol Officers and the other law enforcement officers. I recognized their stoic expressions as they protected the protesters' rights. My father wore that same expression and the same uniform. And the California Highway Patrol is one reason that California does not suck.
I introduced my daughter to several officers. I explained to the officers that my father had been a CHP officer, and everyone nodded the way my father would have nodded. Nobody changed their expression, but I imagine they appreciated being appreciated. In a couple photos, you can see the officers in the background. My daughter took the photo of me.
Unlike his son and grandchildren, my father was not born in California. He was born in a small Texas town with a population less than 2,000. There were probably more protesters at the event than in Overton, Texas. I have been to Overton, and I hope to take my daughter and son there, so that they can learn more about the grandfather they never met.
This story will continue to develop, but for now, I am grateful for those who remain quiet and strong, and watch over us. Having known my father, I realize that just because some people are quiet, it doesn't mean they don't have opinions. And knowing myself, I realize, just because people are loud, it doesn't mean someone is right.
Photos of the Proposition 8 rally before the California Supreme Court ruling
Fathers' Lessons - Images by bryan farley
Note: On August 4, 2010, U.S. Federal District Judge Vaughn Walker struck down California Proposition 8. Appeals pending.
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