As the Embers Burn

January 13 would have been my father’s 90^th birthday. He passed away on September 19^th, 2006, three months after I saw him for the last time. He was in a nursing home in the Bronx. My half sister had put him there. I was living in Knoxville, Tennessee, his hometown. My father was still mentally cogent, knew who I was the minute I walked into his room, and was delighted to meet my husband. It had been about 17 years since I had seen him. He was no longer ambulatory and spent our visit in his hospital bed. I brought him a University of Tennessee throw blanket for his bed and a big UT cold cup to keep at his bedside.

Daddy had not been back to Tennessee since the 1980’s and I knew his heart ached to see his sister again. She was his youngest sister and the only one still living. She was the sister I was named for. I would have given anything to bring him back with me but the very complicated situation between his current wife and my half sister made that impossible.

I think about him often; when I go on a long because he always enjoyed driving, when I’m on vacation because he took such delight in traveling to new places and teaching me about them, when I read a good mystery or detective novel because he liked them. This past fall I published my first book. It is a thriller with action and romance tossed in for good measure. I know he would have been proud and would have read it and shown it to everyone he knew.

Although he had been out of my life for many years and we only had a few hours together over eight years ago I still miss him terribly. I miss his laugh which came from deep in his chest and rumbled like a merry train. I miss his long winded tales of World War II and things that happened to him and his ship mates. Most of all I miss his big warm hugs which were like being enveloped by a lovable bear.

I have some of his ashes in a silver heart I wear around my neck and I find in moments of stress or uncertainty I will rub it like a talisman. This year my husband took me on a Caribbean cruise for New Year’s Eve. I wore my pendant because I knew Daddy would have had a blast celebrating on a cruise ship as the New Year rang in.

I was blessed to have him for ten years as a child, and blessed again when my husband convinced me in June 2006 to travel to New York to visit him for Father’s Day. I like to think of him now in a sort of heavenly after life, driving around in a big old Chevrolet with my mother at his side, and the radio playing light jazz. He’d be pointing out all the sights, looking for a good place to eat or spend the night, and going just a little too fast. Have fun Daddy! You earned it.