Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Father (as in paternal parent, not God) (04/10/08)
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TITLE: DADless | Previous Challenge Entry
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04/16/08 -
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I have only four memories of being with my father as a child. In one I see dad grab my arm and swat my butt over some kind of misdeed. Another time I watched him pack his suitcase to leave. I forget one of them. The last was a reoccurring dream about the cliffs off of the San Diego area beaches. In this dream I see my father waving to me by the edge of the cliff, urging me to come over. Excited to see him again, I peddle my bike faster and faster. The sky boiled with gray clouds ready to storm, shading the tress, grass and stone in the same gray tone. Just as I get to my father, he disappears and I continue over the cliff, falling hundreds of feet. I struggled to wake up before I hit the surf and rocks below. I awake scared, sometimes crying and stomach roiling from the fear of free fall.
Over the years I saw my dad probably two dozen times. The last was the day he died. In my mid 40s, I received a call from my sister. “Dad is dying of cancer. He wants all of his children to come and visit him before he dies. Can you come? Do you want to come?” Of course I would come. It is my duty as a son, even if my father did not do his duty as a parent. Besides he had suddenly started calling me a few times in the past two years. No major problem. No apologies or discussions about the past. Just: “How are you doing? I just wanted to hear from you.”
My four siblings and I spent a couple days in his small house in San Diego, talking with dad and trying to avoid conversation with step mom. We spent one night in the home. That night I stayed by my dad’s hospital bed. He was restless, the cancer painful. He could not speak clearly, but smiled at times. His kidneys were failing and he could not urinate. I spent the night nursing dad, being of what comfort I could be to him. For me, and I trust for him, this was the time we put all the past aside. We are all sinners saved by grace. We all screw up in some way or other. No more judgments. That night I let the past go. I would willingly be the son who stood by Dad when he needed me.
We all had to say good-bye that next morning. We had to return to our homes, our lives, our families. “Dad, I have to go home. Thanks for inviting me to come. Don’t worry. Relax and let the angels come. I will see you in heaven.” We stayed with one of the brothers for that last night, all of us planning on leaving the next day. During that evening we received a phone call. Dad simply went to sleep and died that afternoon.
I recall the other memory now. Dad used to drive the church bus and I would ride with him sometimes. He made a comment to me once: “Do you think I’ll be driving a church bus in heaven?” I hope so Dad. I want to ride with you again.
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