On March 19, 2018, I was on my front porch reading Week 5 of The Presence Process by Michael Brown, which I had already read twice. At that moment, it hit me like a ton of bricks being thrown down from the gates of heaven, "You are going to see your dad, right now." I said, "Okay...God I hear you, but I am not sure if I have enough courage or strength to do this today." After all, I had just spent all evening Sunday crying after watching the movie, "I Can Only Imagine." I then went to my spiritual room and prayed before changing my clothes and heading to my dad’s place. I prayed all the way there that he would be home.
I pulled into the driveway and his car was there, so I knew he was home. I knocked on the front door several times. I knocked on the frame and the glass and no one came. It was a fairly nice day so I thought maybe he was outside so I walked around the back of the trailer. I didn’t see him anywhere so I knocked on the back door. I could hear the tv on inside the back door. I knocked and knocked and no one came so then it went through my mind that he was lying inside of the trailer dead. At that point, I knocked louder and said, “dad are you in there” over and over again. I reached the point where I was screaming, "Daddy please open the door." I went back around to the front of the trailer and started knocking again. Then, about the time I started to turn to leave, the door opened and there stood my dad. Then, I looked at him and said, “Hi Dad, would you like to go for a drive with me?” And he hesitated, and I just knew he was going to say, “no”. So I quickly added that I would like to take a drive to the cemetery. Then, he said, “I guess I can go. Just give me a minute.” I waited outside for what seemed like 10 minutes, but I am sure it was just a few.
I told him that I knew the day would eventually come when he would no longer be on this earth, and I really wanted to make sure I knew what he wanted at that time. We visited the cemetery where he had his plot so I would know the location and discussed a few other administrative issues. Seeing his name on the headstone was extremely emotional and surreal. I have tears welling up in my eyes at this moment as I think about my dad’s last name on that headstone at the graveyard.
Anyway, we jumped back in the car, and I asked if he wanted to grab a bite to eat before we headed back to his place. He said he was thinking about frying up some ham before I arrived. Then, I told him if there was anything that he hadn’t had for awhile I could pick it up for him. He said he didn’t want to go in anywhere because he had thrown on some of his dirtiest pants. They looked like he had been working a construction job on a work site. Anyway, I decided I would just run into Fat N Sassy’s and pick us up some sandwiches. As I started to pull over, he said you know there is a place on the other side of town that a lot of people go to so I would like to try that place out today. We drove to the north side of Huntingburg to a Family Restaurant, and I asked if he wanted to go inside. He looked at his pants for a moment and then he said, “Sure let’s go inside and eat.” As we walked toward the door, I said, “Dad no one is going to know whether or not you got all that dirt working hard on a construction job or not. People go to eat lunch dirty from work all the time.” I think that was just what he needed to hear because he seemed at peace with the way he looked just then.
We sat down and ordered lunch. I knew there was so much I wanted to say, but I started with some of the most positive things I could think up at the time. And, it went something like this, “Dad I have been working on my emotional development lately, and I started thinking a lot about you during this time. I realized how much I have missed you over the years. I remember when you taught me how to ride my bike. You would run along behind me again and again down the side walk, and then when you finally thought I was ready, you let go. There I was riding all by myself. That is a great memory for me. I remember a lot from my childhood. I remember when you would take us to Evansville to ride down the big slide. I remember all the times you took us swimming and to the fireworks. I remember the first time I rode a rollercoaster at Opryland. You were the one who took me on the ride, and I was just barely tall enough to ride on that big roller coaster.” Somewhere during this conversation, he asked if I could get him a napkin. Then, I watched as he dabbed at the tears in his eyes. I had never seen my dad cry before, but I was sure that was what he was doing at that moment even though I never saw one run down his cheek.
Then, his chicken noodle soup arrived and his cottage cheese. And, I watched my dad so enjoy his food. He said, “This chicken noodle soup is so good.” I think it tasted so good because he had me there while he was eating it. He told me that he had been fighting depression and that no one had come to see him lately. I listened to him tell me how he still visits his girl friend in the nursing home about every other day, and then it was my turn again.
This time was more difficult for me as I said, “Dad I am probably going to cry when I tell you this. I have suffered my whole life because you walked out of my life when I was 12-years old. I still remember the day that we pulled into the driveway, and you said, 'this is just too hard for me each time I pick you up and bring you all back every other weekend. I won’t be picking you up anymore.'” I am a grown woman, and I have been for a long time, but I will never forget that day as long as I live. It was the day that he took a large hunk of my heart with him. I suffered through so many broken relationships with men from that day forward. I told my dad that all my relationships had suffered because of that one day. He then said, “I never knew it bothered you that much.” I said, “I know because I have never been able to tell you. But, I just want to feel whole again in my life, which is why I am here with you today.” I cried hard during that conversation, and I watched his eyes well up a few times in tears, but I knew at that moment, we both were going to be okay. (This was very difficult to write. I cried a lot and had to go grab some Kleenexes before I could finish it.)
The rest of our food arrived, and his breaded tenderloin was about four times the size of his bun so I laughed when I saw his eyes get really big and he said, “I have never seen a tenderloin sandwich this big.” I said, “Well dad you have enough for your lunch and dinner today.” We lightened the mood and just talked for awhile about everyday life. You see, I had no idea the last time I had seen my dad. I just knew it had been years. I had no memory of the last time. Usually, I would see my dad when he needed me to take him to the VA Hospital in Marion, IL before they had the hospital in Evansville. Or, I would see him when he needed some money for his bills because he had gambled all of his money away that month.
Today, was an extra special day because I slid $20.00 across the table to him, and I told him that he could use it for gas to get back and forth to see his girlfriend. He looked at me and said, “I don’t need it. You have done plenty for me today.” I knew right there and then God was in the middle of that table because my dad would never turn down money. He slid it right back over to me, and I put it away. This day was one of the greatest days in the recording of my life. It was perfect.
I took my dad back to his trailer, and he said, “I would invite you in, but I keep it real cold in my place because I don’t have money for the gas bill otherwise.” I said, “That’s okay. I will at least see you to the front door.” He opened the door, and then he said, “Oh, just come on in anyway.” We walked in through the door, and I could feel the warmth in that room.” Then, he said, “Huh…the wood burner is going. I don’t recall starting a fire.” He had even told me during lunch that he didn’t use his wood burner anymore because it cost him too much for the wood, and he wasn’t able to chop his own wood anymore.” I looked around and there was nowhere to sit because there was stuff piled high on all the furniture. He showed me a couple of items that were in the room that he would like for me to have. Then, he took me back to his room where he stayed all the time watching tv.
After a few more minutes, we walked back toward the front door. I hugged him tight, and then I hugged him again. And, I said, “Dad I love you.” He didn’t say it in return, but I know he felt it. He asked me if I was usually off on Mondays, and I said, “Yes, most of the time.” He then said, “Do you think you could come and pick me up again one day.” And, I said, “Of course, dad. I can do that.” I could hear the words, “I love you.” In the silence of that moment. He didn’t have to say the words. I left in my car, and I cried and cried as I drove away from his place. Then, I turned on my radio and there playing on my cd was a song that I always skipped over because I couldn’t listen to it without crying. That song was Cinderella by Steven Curtis Chapman. I listened to it all the way through as I bawled my eyes out to the point of complete blurriness. Then, I thought I finally received my Cinderella moment today. My dad is 87 years old, and I thank God for this beautiful day with my dad. The End.