My Dad was amazing!
(Those of you who read my book know this story but I feel it needs retelling now.)
1988
It was a hard drive home.
I had just found out my best friend had died of AIDS while I was living in West Virginia.
The next morning, I drove the three hours back to Ohio in a daze. The service didn’t start until the afternoon and I had no idea what to do with myself.
Feeling lost, I went to the only place I knew I could.
Home.
Yeah, home.
Dad knew immediately that something was wrong. I was gray and rumpled and was clearly in distress.
Rosemary gave me some tea, but I couldn’t keep up the normal chitchat.
Finally, my Dad said, “Son, what’s wrong?”
“Dad, I don’t know what to say.”
“You can tell us anything.”
“I know but I just don’t know how to say this.”
My father spoke with a note of fear. “We love you, Son, and you can tell us anything.”
Oh, God! They think I have it!
That’s when I completely lost it. Fear, love and hurt erupted in one huge burst. Blubbering, I told the story. The pain and the hurt. The fear and the utter feeling of loss.
“It’s not me. My friend, Larry, died – “
I couldn’t continue. The pain was just too much.
“It’s not goddamn fair! Why? Why!?!?”
I couldn’t stop crying. No, I didn’t want to stop crying. Ever.
“Dad, I am a nobody, but he was someone special. So talented. So—“ The pain welled up.
That is when my Dad did the most wonderful thing he has ever done and one I will remember always.
He put his arm around me.
He put his arm around his 25-year-old son and just let me cry. And cry I did. Down to the bottom of my heart.
Huge, wracking sobs.
And Dad held me like a child trying to make the hurt go away. And, somehow, the world kept turning.
Somehow…
I love my Dad.
(Now that Dad is gone, I hope I can be such a person to others who need it.)
Tales From An Old Ford 