I spoke this with my heart. His eyes fluttered open. Then fixed their gaze on mine. Pierced me with their message.
“I’m unable to repair it this time.” He meant his body. The stroke was massive. Before, he’d pushed through and broken the curse of the lesser ones.
“I’m here.” Again, I spoke this without words.
She was holding his hands. Intent on preventing his spirit’s leave-taking. His eyes traveled between us. But her sorrow blocked their message for her. His eyes then held mine.
“Remember.”
I knew. He’d phoned me, not two weeks prior. Told me things. Prophesied. Made one more request. “When the time comes, help Mama. She’ll need you.”
His eyes bore into mine. Brought me back to this moment. “She'll stay a long time. Remember.”
“Yes.”
And so it would come, as it had before. He, as teacher, ever the first to arrive, later calling me to him as student. Then, ever the first to leave us. Parting the denser planes each way.
“What shining moment awaits you?” I couldn't help myself.</P
His eyes, though stern at this impertinence, were also filled with father-love.
Once, I confided to him that our brother Ralph had come to me. Told me he was leaving. Cracked jokes about it, as was his way.
Old Daddy had smiled at this, through unshed tears. "When my time comes," he'd said, "If I can, I'll let you know I'm okay, too."
I didn’t doubt it then. Didn’t now.
I took her home. She was tired. Hadn’t touched the food and drink that Bo had brought us.
“Come,” I said. She complied, under protest. Bo followed us home.
Clever Daddy. Mama sent for me earlier that week. I’d come. My non-stop red-eye had landed at Birmingham. But my little rental car had refused to find the family home.
Had I suffered temporary amnesia? Where was home? Where was I?
My car had other plans. It drove me on, to where I knew not. Ten miles later, it turned off onto a country road. Into a small lot. And parked under a semi-darkened hospital window.
I’d never been there before. Yet I was to recognize that exact little parking lot. From the other side of that same Intensive Care window.
I sat a long time in that little car. A Presence rooted me there. Then a police car pulled in next to mine.
I explained. Was lost. The officer was sympathetic, even drove ahead of me until I remembered the way. As I should have. To where she and Old Uncle and new Aunt had waited through the night. For my arrival.
Clever Old Daddy. He now sent us home. For her to rest. Eat.
And for him to make his blessed ascent.
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