Tears for Daddy

Jan. 12, 1983

I never really got to know him like I really wanted to.  There was the divorce when I was younger. I saw him leave. Sitting quietly in the playroom, I watched as He took an armful of clothes from his closet out to his old car.  Dad never really had a good car. Only second hand ones. I remember the little sedan he was driving at the time. I can remember one night, going to New Hanoverton to pick up one of the girls.  It seemed that we waited in the car so long, that rainy night.  But now he was leaving, mom was crying. Should I cry? How must I feel? This was the sad part and there were no tears for daddy.

I wanted us to understand each other. Wasn't there ever enough time for me?

He lay there, eyes yellow with jaundice. "Hi Dad, how are you feeling today?"
He couldn't speak with the respirator. He tried to look towards me. I tried to make conversation. Tried to cheer him up.

He began so slip, eyes gently rolling up into his head. Those jaundiced eyes filled with death. I'll never forget.

My heart slid as the nurse ushered me out of the room. I was numb as nurses and aids flew post me into the intensive care unit. "Please save him", I thought. He can't die now. We haven't made things right. We haven't captured those lost lonely years. "It'll be better now", I thought