Family (continued)

Ties that Bind

“Start with the wide end of your necktie on the right, extending about twelve inches below the narrow end to the left.   Cross the wide end over the narrow end…”  I speak as Javi stands before me, dressing for his high school Homecoming Dance.  He needs help tying a Windsor.  He looks posh in his black sport jacket, a distant departure from his usual jeans and sweatshirts.

Javier,  my stepson of five months, presents novel challenges.  Living alone most of my life, I was  uncertain about living with a seventeen year-old.  I’d spent my off-hours, reading, writing and enjoying the serenity of singleness.  Teens, I’d come to learn, spend incalculable hours immersed in video games, hanging with friends or declaring their desire for adulthood.  Few hours are actually devoted to working, reading or quiet…with the exception of sleeping late.  I’m still adjusting.

“Pull the wide end up through the loop between the collar and tie and then bring it down.”   I continue.

My mind drifts to those early years when my dad ushered me into our walk-in closet where he selected one of his ties from the rack.   It went with my new blue blazer.  "The Gomes’ are coming to dinner and you need to wear a sport-coat with a tie.  I’m going to show you how to tie it.”

“Can’t I just wear a clip-on?”   Makes life easier, I thought.

“You need to learn to dress.  Someday, you’ll apply for a job or meet the right girl.  It’s important.”  He asserted.

“Pull the wide end under the narrow end and back through the loop…”  I continue with Javier.  “You have a choice to either bring it to the left or right.  Either path works.  One makes a more narrow but sophisticated knot.  The other is more traditional."   I follow. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

“Anisa.”  He responds.   “The dance is at Sammamish.  After, we’ll have dinner.  Bunch of us’re going to a restaurant on Alki.”

“Nice.”  I say, knowing the place.  “Go the traditional way.”

My father dressed well.  It was important to Filipinos.   Something of a cultural inheritance from the Spanish.   It meant fitting in…having an education…being employed.  The Spanish passed along the idea that shined shoes were a sign of a cabellero and not a lowly peon, compelled to walk dusty roads instead of riding a horse.   Three hundred years of rule, left this residue in the Philippines.

“Cross the wide end from right to left before pulling it up through the loop.”   Dad proceeded to the next step.  “Manongs Eddie and Pablo will be joining us.  Your mother invited Father O’Brien as well.  You want to make a good impression.”

My eyes rolled.  It’s all about looking good.  Dad wanted me to be the best altar boy at church.  I supposed this made points with God.

“Pull the wide end down through the knot in front.”   We near the end of the lesson.  “How’d you meet her?”  I query Javier.

He answers that she’s in his class and on the tennis team.  Tells me she’s quite a player and went to state last year.  They just have fun together.  The dinner will have ten to twelve couples.  A father of one of  his classmates owns the restaurant and cut them a deal.

I say,  “Sounds like fun. We’re about done.  Last step, use both hands, tighten the knot and draw it to the collar.”

He does.  Looks in the mirror at the Windsor.  “Thanks.”

I stand back.  Give him the once over.  I think about my dad gone now seven years.  I recall his words and use them now. “Looks good.  You should be a hit!”