A Father's Day story

[florida]

Forgive me if I seem to be hogging the topics today but thought this story I wrote years ago would fit today.

A bag of mini carrots sits on the coffee table in the den. Chris and I share the sofa on one side while Daddy sits in the old Boston rocker on the other. I  brought the carrots all the way from Ft Myers to Charleston since I'm on another diet and need something to snack on. Had I known how the carrots would change things I would have brought them years ago. Daddy leans forward in the rocker and picks another carrot from the bag. They are very sweet and crunchy and we're slowly working our way through the bag. Daddy's breathing is loud and strained and usually irritates me but not today.  Today is strange, Dad and I have had a strained relationship since I was a teen, maybe even earlier but today neither of us seem to have any desire to argue. We always argue, but the carrots seem to exude some peaceful chemical that stifles that need today.  We can argue about anything or nothing, the weather, politics, clothes, relationships, you name it. If I say black he says white and vice versa. Sometimes it seems like we've never agreed about anything. He and Chris have a different relationship. They've always talked, been friends even. A much more relaxed way of life for them both and a relationship I envy.

But today we're talking and having a great time. Our conversation rambles across a dozen topics and nowhere. It doesn't matter. We just keep slowly eating carrots and talking. After awhile I don't hear his labored breathing or see his thin shoulders, I see our father grinning and laughing.  The bag of carrots is dwindling but we're having a good time. I can't remember the last time we've had such a free and easy conversation and this is what I came for. There are things I need to say to him  before it's too late but even now I can't get the words out. What words can I say that will erase 40 years of my disrespect? Too soon the magic carrots are gone and the shadows are getting long outside.  Mom calls to us that supper  is ready,  we fill our plates from the bowls on the counter and eat from our seats on the sofa.  We talk until bedtime, it's been a wonderful day.

Eventually the weekend is over and I still haven't  found the courage to say what I need to say. We move out to the front porch for good-byes  and my time has run out.  Daddy sticks his hand out but I embrace him in a hug. Tears come to my eyes, I know this may be the last time I'll see him. He stiffens but pats me on the back. I tell him I love him for the first time in more years than I can remember. He stands and for a minute and I think he won't say anything, I  know this is hard for him.  Finally he says, " I love all my boys."  It's enough for me, I have what I came for.

He died 3 moths later at home.

[rjwoelk]

Very glad to hear that story. Life is too short to have conflicts.
My mom is 97 and i call her a couple of times a week. Never know when the lord takes them  home.

[50 Acre Jim]

Eventually the weekend is over and I still haven't  found the courage to say what I need to say. We move out to the front porch for good-byes  and my time has run out.  Daddy sticks his hand out but I embrace him in a hug. Tears come to my eyes, I know this may be the last time I'll see him. He stiffens but pats me on the back. I tell him I love him for the first time in more years than I can remember. He stands and for a minute and I think he won't say anything, I  know this is hard for him.  Finally he says, " I love all my boys."  It's enough for me, I have what I came for.

He died 3 moths later at home.

Darn, got something in my eye now. 

[coxy]

x2 

[Darrel]

Thanks florida, I think you just told a story that I could have written about my dad and I.

[florida]

Darrell

My Dad was a very good man, lived children to pieces but had trouble with us about the time we'd need to shave. He was one of 7 and his dad was a Methodist minister who was very straight laced and undemonstrative which rubbed off on my Dad. My wife's father was the same way, grew up real hardscrabble in WV back when people didn't have time for much affection. He too was a very good man who I came to love dearly but only after he had gotten older and softer.

[sawguy21]

I never got the close relationship I craved with my dad. He was a good man, a kind man, but never openly affectionate. Even mom said she felt she never really knew him until he opened up shortly before he died. I don't honestly think he knew how to be a dad because he never knew his, my grandfather abandoned the family at the end of WWI
I married late in life and have two adult step children I am close too. For the second year in a row stepson Chris called to wish me a happy father's day, this is something I will always cherish. I am proud to be 'dad' to him and 'grandpa Roy' to his daughter and step daughter.