A mere couple of days after we made zucchini bread together, I got the dreaded phone call that had haunted me for years. I answered every phone call and checked every text message no matter the hour. I never let my cell phone out of my sight because what if I got a call about him and missed it? I wouldn't be able to live with myself. It was my brother on the other end, "Get to the hospital now. And I mean DON'T take your time. Get. Here. Now." No questions were asked because there wasn't time. I had just gotten out of the shower and threw on whatever clothes were nearest me. I drove and I drove fast. I prayed the whole time that a cop wouldn't pull me over. It's not the ticket that I feared for it would have been worth it but, it was the time the cop would have stolen from me... from my daddy's last... I didn't have time. Thankfully I arrived at the hospital to find a front row parking spot and dashed threw the hallway, up the elevator, and then it hit me. I was standing in front of the ICU where I knew my daddy was. I paused for only a second or two but it felt like 10 minutes. I thought to myself, "Ok, this could be it. Calm down. Breathe. Open the door." I froze. "OPEN THE DOOR!" The thought screamed at me to interrupt my fears. I shook it off and pulled the door open and began looking for my mama and brother. I will never forget the way he looked, the way my mother looked holding on to one hand and cupping his face with her other. There was one of my brothers standing on the other side of the bed. When their red and teary eyes met mine no one could say a word.
I said goodbye to my daddy that day. Oh God, how I miss my daddy. That mess of a man was my mess of a father. He was mine. I've always been so proud of who he was. He was a good man that touched so many in a deep way. He was a good man.
After all the services and family had left, I was walking out of my mother's house when she ran to me with tears and gave me some of the flowers that had been sent. I kept those flowers... it's been over two months now and they still sit on my table. I have such a hard time throwing them away. They are all dried and wilted and falling apart but every time I try I end up crying my eyes out again. I feel like if I let go of them, somehow I'm letting go of his memory. I guess saying it out loud like this makes it seem so foolish. Today is the day.
I will always love my daddy.
