Reflection

{ August 9, 2011 @ 11:24 pm } · { Uncategorized }

My thoughts take me back to the summer of my 14th year.  In my mind’s eye, I see a summer day, probably a Saturday, and my 14-year-old self was bounding up the stairs to my bedroom.  I most likely had plans to go listen to some records, and perhaps sing along to them using my hairbrush as my microphone.  I probably felt carefree, even though I can’t recall my specific mood.  But an image from that day is forever burned into my memory.  As I neared the top of the stairs, I saw my daddy sitting on a high stool in front of the bathroom mirror.  His face was lathered with shaving cream, and he was slowly and carefully removing his whiskers.  He heard me coming, and turned to look at me.  I don’t remember him saying anything, or even if he smiled.  I don’t remember saying anything either.  I just remember thinking it odd that he was sitting down to shave.  I can’t recall if this happened before or after we were told that he had cancer, but I do remember the sadness in his beautiful brown eyes.

A 14-year-old girl doesn’t think to hold onto moments like that, to treasure them.  I’m sure I let it pass without much thought.  But now, years later, I wish I could go back to those moments when my daddy was still here with me.  Now, in my more mature thoughts, I wonder what he had been thinking as he sat in front of that mirror shaving.  Now I realize that he was sitting because he didn’t have the strength to stand for that long.  I wonder if he realized, as he stared back at his reflection, that time was running short.  I wonder if he felt fear or anger or regret.  I wonder what went through his mind when his eyes met mine.  I wish I could have that moment back.  I wish that I had paused, and gone to my daddy and hugged him, even if it meant getting shaving cream all over me.

I know that the naivete’ of a child is sometimes a blessing, and that my teenage self had not absorbed the seriousness of his illness.  I’m sure that was good for me then, but now, looking back, it makes me wonder if I missed out on some special moments that I can never get back.  I know that he and mama tried to protect us, to shield us by not letting us see how sick he really was.  In my memory, he was happy and healthy one week, and the next he was in the hospital, and then all of a sudden he was gone.  Time makes no sense in my memory.  Maybe that too is a blessing.

I can’t help but wish that I’d known that time with him was so short.  I would have said things and told him things that I never got to say.  I never got to say goodbye to my daddy.  All I have are memories of a man I adored.  Through all the milestones and markers of my life, I have wished he was there to share them with me.  He was not there to intimidate my dates.  He was not there to walk me down the aisle.  He was not there when my children were born.  But the legacy of his love, and the memory of his soft brown eyes give me comfort.  I know he sees me, and I know that now he smiles.

Advertisement