Yesterday I heard a goodbye; but, I didn’t realize it until I hung up the phone. The sweet sound of my dad’s voice remained in my head. The words echoed from one part of my brain to the other. My response to him had been one I was accustomed to using – the forever cheerleader – the everything is going to be good – the roses and sunshine and unicorns outlook I’m often criticized for having – and it all came crashing down as I sat in silence at the red light.
I left work because my mama needed me. My parents are up in age. I have a handicapped sister who needs constant care. My dad had heart surgery two days prior and while still in ICU seemed to be doing well, and so I went to work.
The call came in the middle of my morning. Major projects consumed my desk. Stacks of paperwork and reminders lined the sides of the wall. My daddy would need more surgery…things weren’t going well…
I called my mama as I drove to Athens. I’d keep my sister Jennie for her. My mom’s dear friend and neighbor could only stay until I got there.
And my daddy asked to speak to me.
I heard it in his voice but I didn’t think about it. I knew his thought processes were different but I could only think of encouraging words. And as he told me his goodbye – I didn’t accept it and continued to cheer loudly, unaware that I needed to be still and listen. Listen to his goodbye to me. Take in his voice. Hear what he needed me to hear.
The call ended. Silence filled my car.
My mom called a few minutes later to let me know he wasn’t breathing well. They had to intubate him and were taking him back to surgery.
There isn’t a whole lot that I need to hear from my dad. I’ve known I was loved since the day I was born. He’s given his time to me. He’s taught me about God and love and people. He’s disciplined me when I needed it and helped me to see the world from many perspectives. While there are no regrets, I didn’t accept his goodbye.
My sister is autistic but understands a great deal of what is going on. We sat down on the sofa and I asked her to pray with me. She put down her tape player ( a rarity), folded her hands as my daddy has taught her, and as the words flowed from my mouth, I realized how afraid she must be. For my daddy loves her unconditionally. Who could ever fill his shoes in her life?
Last night I stood in ICU looking at my daddy. His surgery was successful. If he were awake he’d be so mad that there was a tube down his throat. He didn’t open his eyes but he did squeeze my hand. I wanted to tell him I was sorry that I didn’t listen to his goodbye. I wanted to tell him it is a flaw sometimes for me to want to believe everything is going to be good. I wanted to tell him. I should have been quiet and listened to what he had to say; but he already knew. He knows who I am. He knows my heart. He knows exactly how I am as fathers are supposed to know and love their children.
As I left his room, I smiled. Even in his silence, he answered me.
To my Dad – Happy Father’s Day. It is a joy and privilege to be your daughter.
“And we know, in all things God works for the good of those who love Him and are called according to His purpose.” – Romans 8:28.
