When I was growing up, my father and I didn't see eye to eye. Maybe it was because of my distrust for men. Maybe it was because, even at a tender age, I didn't want to be controlled by anyone and Dad was very strict. Maybe it was because Dad and I were too much alike. We both had Irish tempers and we both were stubborn. Maybe it was all of these reasons and maybe it was none of them.
Anyway, my Dad and I did battle through my childhood and into my teens. It wasn't until I had a daughter of my own and had confronted some demons in my life that he and I started to become close. Over the next twelve years and especially the last two, we formed a firm bond.
The night my Dad died, my daughter and I had been there for dinner. It was about eight o'clock when we decided to start for home. That day Dad and I had had the rare opportunity to talk about things that we seldom spoke of. I walked down the steps of the sunporch and for some unknown reason, a voice inside my head told me to go back. Thank goodness I heeded that voice. I went back, kissed my Dad on the cheek and told him I loved him. That was something I'd never done before.
At 11pm, my mother phoned to tell me that Dad had died suddenly just as he was getting ready for bed. I was in shock.
That was almost twenty-five years ago and I've always been thankful for that voice that urged me to go back. If I hadn't I would have missed a very special moment that could never be recovered.
Each Father's Day I place red roses on Dad's grave. Red roses were his favorite flower and he could grow the largest, most beautiful roses I have ever seen. So in memory of a fantastic Dad, Sunday will find me at the cemetery placing red roses on his grave. A tradition that will continue as long as I'm able to drive the 15 minutes to the rural cemetery that is his final resting place.
Note: For a great tribute to another father, be sure to read Mark Rast's "Maybe You Did."
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Comments: 17
Maureen, I certainly have many memories of my Dad. He was a man who wanted his children to be the best that they could be and insisted on it. I'm glad that he did.
Anita, Yes, when I grew up, we made lemons into lemonade of the sweetest kind. When my first husband died at a very young age, Dad was my lifeline. I don't know how I'd have made it without him.
Bonnie, Thanks for your comments.
Serina, I had a great opportunity and am glad that I was able to obey that voice. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I can't imagine how I'd feel if I'd disregarded it. Thanks for your comments. They're very much appreciated.
Aileen, I was very lucky. I've always felt good about our closeness in the last few years before Dad's death and am so glad I listened to that little voice that urged me to go back.