“Metamorphosis” by Franz Kafka

My ankles look like my dad’s ankles. And I don’t mean just a passing resemblance. My ankles look exactly like my dad’s, and I always knew that when he was gone, looking at my ankles would make me sad. So I have worn a lot of socks and tights all winter and gotten by as best I could. But now it is summer time and I have to wear strappy sandals and face the facts. My dad passed away almost a year ago but there is still a part of him that will always be inside of me. In addition to his ankles, I also love to exercise as much as he did. And I covet any flavor of frozen yogurt, especially coffee, as much as he did. I want everyone to fall in love like he did. And I carry the same thimble full of patience as he did. Our biggest fear was being stuck in an airport without reading material. Garry and I also loved Franz Kafka. Many people didn’t know this about him but he loved not only Kafka, but also Albert Camus and Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Kafka’s novella “Metamorphosis” was one of our favorites. Originally written in 1915 in German, the story of how a traveling salesman woke up one day to find himself transformed into a giant beetle always fascinated my dad.  “I cannot make you understand, I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside of me. I cannot explain it to myself.” More than 100 years after it was written, the story of Gregor Samsa’s transformation still seems modern. He is faced with juggling not only an angry boss but also his disappointed parents and beloved sister’s reaction. He struggles to maintain a life despite his condition until he can’t take it anymore. “He still saw that outside the window everything was beginning to grow light. Then, without his consent, his head sank down to the floor, and from his nostrils steamed his last weak breath.” This Father’s Day weekend I will be reading some Kafka, celebrating my dad, and appreciating my ankles and how strong they are. To purchase this book on Amazon click here.