Dad

The first memory I have of him — of anything, really — is his strength. It was in the late afternoon in a house undercompany Inflatable Arch construction near ours. The unfinished wood floor had large, terrifying holes whose yawning[张大嘴] darkness I knew led to nowhere good. His powerful hands, then age 33, wrapped all the way around my tiny arms, then age 4, and easily swung[摇摆] me up to his shoulders to command all I surveyed.

The relationship between a son and his father changes over time. It may grow and flourish[繁茂] in mutual maturity[成熟]. It may sour in resented dependence or independence. With many children living in single-parent homes today, it may not even exist.

But to a little boy right afterbusiness Inflatable Bounce World War II ,a father seemed a god with strange strengths and uncanny[离奇的] powers enabling him to do and know things that no mortal could do or know. Amazing things, like putting a bicycle chain back on, just like that. Or building a hamster[仓鼠] cage.Or guiding a jigsaw[拼板玩具] so it forms the letter F;I learned the alphabet[字母表] that way in those pre-television days.

There were, of course, rules to learn. First came the handshake. None of those fishy[冷冰冰的] little finger grips, but a good firm squeeze accompanied by an equally strong gaze into the other's eyes. “ The first thing anyone knows about you is your handshake,” he would say. And we'd practice it each night on his return from work, the serious toddler in the battered[用旧了的] Cleveland Indian's cap running up to the giant father to shake hands again and again until it was firm enough.