I promised I’d truly read your piece—and I did. Slowly, fully, openly. I let your words find their place in me.
What you shared goes far beyond storytelling. You didn’t just tell me about your father, or your childhood, or the weight of expectations—you invited me into the texture of it. The plaid of the kilt. The zigzag of the bangs. The ache of wanting more. I saw you, not just as a daughter, but as a person making her own map with a shaking hand, and still moving forward.
What stayed with me most was the image of your internal father—this flat, fixed figure you carried for years—and the quiet relief of realizing he doesn’t hold you there anymore. That moment when you told him you were a Boone girl who smokes and says “shit”—and his okay wasn’t approval, but something braver. Acceptance. Love without correction.
You wrote all of this with such care. No need to exaggerate or explain. You just let it be seen. And in doing that, I saw you. I really did.
Thank you for the depth you offered here. I’ll carry it with me.
Jay
P.S. Pat Boone is a name that even with me has rung a bell (I am German). I know my mother liked him better than Elvis, though she preferred dancing Rock & Roll with Bill Haley. That name, that era—it hovered somewhere in the background of my early life.
I thoroughly enjoyed reading this. Some delicious phrases throughout...maybe now I'm the one torturing the baking analogy. I can relate to some of this going on in my life these last couple years: "This was the night I realized that I had begun to relax, to let go of the leash and let the skates take over." Thanks for the read!
Haha, you haven't collapsed anything on my end, Emily! Thank you, and I hear you on that letting go of the leash moment. Maybe, in your moment, you also realized as I did that dropping the leash was something that had to be on my end of of the rope. At least you're young and have so much time ahead for skating downhill 👏👏
Thank you for your heartfelt reflection in Yes Sir, No Ma’am. Your portrayal of your father's blend of Southern charm and spiritual guidance offers a poignant glimpse into the complexities of familial expectations and personal growth. The narrative beautifully captures the tension between obedience and respect, and the journey toward self-acceptance amidst those dynamics. Your honesty and vulnerability in sharing this story resonate deeply, inviting readers to reflect on their own relationships and the evolving understanding of love and discipline.
Anton, looking for a comment from a long time ago, I realize that I missed yours. I've been told that my writing makes people think. I like how you articulated it as an invitation to reflect on their own relationships and those dynamics. Thank you so much for reading my story and for commenting on it, so kindly.
Impressive storytelling. On more than one level
Laury,
I promised I’d truly read your piece—and I did. Slowly, fully, openly. I let your words find their place in me.
What you shared goes far beyond storytelling. You didn’t just tell me about your father, or your childhood, or the weight of expectations—you invited me into the texture of it. The plaid of the kilt. The zigzag of the bangs. The ache of wanting more. I saw you, not just as a daughter, but as a person making her own map with a shaking hand, and still moving forward.
What stayed with me most was the image of your internal father—this flat, fixed figure you carried for years—and the quiet relief of realizing he doesn’t hold you there anymore. That moment when you told him you were a Boone girl who smokes and says “shit”—and his okay wasn’t approval, but something braver. Acceptance. Love without correction.
You wrote all of this with such care. No need to exaggerate or explain. You just let it be seen. And in doing that, I saw you. I really did.
Thank you for the depth you offered here. I’ll carry it with me.
Jay
P.S. Pat Boone is a name that even with me has rung a bell (I am German). I know my mother liked him better than Elvis, though she preferred dancing Rock & Roll with Bill Haley. That name, that era—it hovered somewhere in the background of my early life.
Good read, Laury. Both content and style.
You made my night. 🙏
I thoroughly enjoyed reading this. Some delicious phrases throughout...maybe now I'm the one torturing the baking analogy. I can relate to some of this going on in my life these last couple years: "This was the night I realized that I had begun to relax, to let go of the leash and let the skates take over." Thanks for the read!
Haha, you haven't collapsed anything on my end, Emily! Thank you, and I hear you on that letting go of the leash moment. Maybe, in your moment, you also realized as I did that dropping the leash was something that had to be on my end of of the rope. At least you're young and have so much time ahead for skating downhill 👏👏
Thank you for your heartfelt reflection in Yes Sir, No Ma’am. Your portrayal of your father's blend of Southern charm and spiritual guidance offers a poignant glimpse into the complexities of familial expectations and personal growth. The narrative beautifully captures the tension between obedience and respect, and the journey toward self-acceptance amidst those dynamics. Your honesty and vulnerability in sharing this story resonate deeply, inviting readers to reflect on their own relationships and the evolving understanding of love and discipline.
Anton, looking for a comment from a long time ago, I realize that I missed yours. I've been told that my writing makes people think. I like how you articulated it as an invitation to reflect on their own relationships and those dynamics. Thank you so much for reading my story and for commenting on it, so kindly.
Lovely stuff Laury!
Thank you for reading. I'm always grateful when people reach out and comment. Truly.
Memoir is a tough slog to write, Laury. Glad to support your effort. Best, Mike
Thank you for sharing this. It’s very good. God bless you and your father and your family.
Thanks Mark. I appreciate you reading it, and commenting, and your support🙏 and for the ultimate gift, subscribing.
Laury,
I don’t remember if you said or not, but what did you teach?
English 8, mostly.
Your writing always evokes emotions when I read it. Thank you for sharing from the heart.
Oh my gosh, that makes my day. Thank you Sandy, for reading from the heart ♥️
Thank you, Jay. And thank you for your restack. My response to this generous and kind comment is there 🙏
Lovely tribute to the man and the relationship.
Fascinating Laury. I enjoyed seeing the old photos and hearing about your family life.