A Father's Day Remembered
Posted: Monday, June 11, 2007
by Sandra E. Graham
My Books and Articles
His shaky and weathered hands reached slowly across the bedside table for the brightly wrapped package. A trembling smile almost turned up the corners of his mouth where no teeth had resided for many years—staunchly refusing to wear the store-bought false teeth his children had paid for dearly. Sitting on the side of his bed, his graying head bobbed as his thin and stooped shoulders shook from the effort of raising his arms to reach out and pick up the gift from his youngest son. As he lifted the package, his eyes looked up and met those of his son. The same brilliant blue, the same bright twinkle that remained strong in his own. Mirrored thoughts went through both minds—communication without words—something they had perfected over the years. Father and son. Same thick wavy hair, only a color difference. Same strong chin with the same deep cleft that had passed down from several fathers before.
“Happy Father’s Day, Dad."
“Thank you, Son."
Together they opened the package. A beautiful gilded frame enclosed a picture. The old man reached across the table again and picked up his glasses. He recognized himself and on each side of him sat his son and his grandson. His memory slipped and he couldn’t remember when the picture was taken. He had been in the nursing home now for what seemed like years, but he wasn’t sure. He forgot so much lately. He had only known it was Father’s Day because his son had said it was so.
“I won’t be going back to Iraq, Dad. I’m through over there. I’m home to stay and I’m here to take you home, too." He knelt at his father’s knees and took his hands again. “Do you understand, Dad?"
The look between them then told each what they needed to know and they stood and held each other—roles reversed the Father with his head against the tall, strong shoulder of the son.
My father is gone now but our last Father’s Day together—June 2006--will remain in my memory forever and not only because it was the last, but because it was the best. That was the Father’s Day that we both finally came home from places that required our presence out of necessity.
End
For my dearest friend’s son, a member of the 875 th Engineering Battalion of Arkansas.
Happy Father’s Day to all fathers here and there.
Sandra E. Graham, author—Amos Jakey—published by American Book Publishing
Visit my website: http//www.sandragraham-articles-books.com
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Top-level comments on this article: (1 total)"where no teeth had resided for many years" My father was 42 yrs. old when I was born. But I never remember him wearing teeth, He always used to say "I came into this world without any teeth and I'm going to leave without any." and he did, wonderful story SandraThanks, David. I think my own father was 38 when I was born. He had never married until he was 32---born in 1908 and passed away at 83. He lived a long and fruitful life (eight children). We celebrated many happy Father's Days together. SG
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