Tag Archives: child

FATHER AND DAUGHTER

My life was constructed around the moments I spent with you, so often, cycling across the vast expanse of green. Me, on my cycle with the training wheels, and you – smooth swift thrusts, but still keeping pace with me. A strong, silent man. We didn’t need words to kill the silence. We liked the silence as it enveloped us, comfortably snug in our place of mutual understandings.This was what we did. Cycle on and on, by the farm, by the creek, by the small shack where the friendly old couple sitting on the porch always waved to us. But this time when we reached that gnarly old tree with it’s twisty roots creeping across the edge of the road, presenting a grotesque sight, a small part of me was crushed, but I wouldn’t let daddy see his little girl cry. I would not make him go through that. We placed our bikes by the base of the tree, and you knelt before me, still a foot taller than I was, held my face in those reliable, soft hands and pinched my nose playfully. You walked down the slope towards the lake, where a small wooden rowing boat lay tethered to one of the ugly roots. You looked back up, with tears in your eyes, as you waved goodbye to me, and started rowing away. I stood there till you sailed away – till I couldn’t see you anymore. You said you were going away to work – where , I never knew. With a heavy heart, I turned my back and rode my bicycle home – by the shack, the creek, the farm – alone for the very first time. Your bike lay there still, in the shade of the ‘tree of parting’ – as I liked to call it. There was no way to contact you – no phones, no letters. Once every week I cycled down to the lake and waited for you to return. I pretended you were with me, ate sandwiches on your behalf, and wrote letters to you about my day, my school, my thoughts.

Weeks became months, and months became years. Whatever be the weather, rain or shine, I never stopped cycling. Your girl always waited. The day I ended this activity, my hope and yearning would end, too. So I didn’t.

Dear dad, it’s autumn – your favourite season. I’m almost 10 now and I’ve brought you an umbrella, just in case we have one of those unfortunate unpredictable downpours.

Dear dad, I graduated from school today. I’ve performed well in most subjects but especially Maths. You were always so good at that. I also got a trophy for the cycling tournament held this winter. I drank hot chocolate in celebration and to thank you. I won only because of your efforts, your persistence.

Dear dad, I haven’t been able to make a lot of friends, it seems as though none of them appreciate silence like you did. You always said, “Love someone if they’re comfortable with your silence.” They don’t seem to be the right fit for me.

Dear dad, I’m getting married today! You’d love him. He’s strong, he’s silent, he’s patient. Most of all, he’s understanding. He has all the qualities you’ve personified. I am a happy girl. Just wish you’d return sooner and give away the bride.

Dear dad, or should I say grandad now? I’ve given birth to a set of beautiful twins, dad. They need the love and affection of a grandfather, come soon. Ever waiting, ever yours.

I would ring the bicycle bell every time I stood by the lake. Hoping. Hoping that you would call out to me, or maybe that you just didn’t notice me there. I waited there, still that 7 year old girl you left behind at the shore, who never lost faith. Overtime the lake dried up. Tears welled in my eyes as I noticed the jagged rocks that covered the bottom, but I put aside all the evil thoughts that tried to creep into my head, and prayed. I didn’t return for years then. What was the point? I wanted answers, I wanted to know, but how?

It was a bright sunny day when I walked my bicycle over to the gnarly tree. I was too old to ride it – my weak wobbly knees would never be able to pedal like I used to. It reminded me a lot of the day we said our goodbyes. It was picturesque, serene, calm. Just perfect. The land I had not laid eyes upon over the past few years was now teeming with bushes and stalks of green. I hesitated at first, then I made my way through; walking into the high grass. What I was looking for, I did not know. I did not expect to find anything either. I cannot fathom how long I walked. Hours? Days? And in which direction?

And then I saw it. In a small clearing sat the boat my father had rowed away in. It’s inner planks still in place, though upturned. One of the oars was broken and the boat was filled with stones and sand. I stared at it for a while before climbing into the boat and sleeping. It was a deep sleep – peaceful, ethereal, unburdened. I woke up to a piercing white light shining on my face. Squinting, I stood up and looked into the distance. There He stood in that white shirt, black pants, and frail gray overcoat. He just stood there looking at me. I ran across the stretch towards him. I was afraid my petite body would not support me in this time of need, but as I moved forward, I felt my body transform – from a old lady, to a woman, to a girl, to that 7 year old child who had desperately waved at her departing father that day. I reached where he stood with my arms outstretched and he picked me up, twirled me around and gave me that long desperate hug that I had missed but not forgotten.

Right there I knew, in his loving arms, that I was home.