Chapter 23

I entered to the sound of Mom’s voice, excitement filling it like it hadn’t in a couple of years. It was happy, joyous – sounds that had been misplaced since my dad had taken ill. Good news. That was something my mom desperately needed.

I followed the longingly familiar to the family room, where I found mom chattering at an alarmingly fast speed. Crying interspersed with laughter. And names, lots of names. I was catching on now.

I tapped my foot on the wood floor, startled my mom, who jumped, turned, laughed and cried some more. I took the phone from her, said hello to my sister and congratulated her.

“So when is the baby due?”

She was laughing too hard to respond. I handed the phone back to my mom, motioned towards my room, and left her to her revelry. The best of surprises, and just when it was needed most.

Half an hour later, a knock. I looked up to my mom’s radiating face staring through the doorway. And the world seemed just a little more right. Things seemed a little closer to normal.

“So you ready to have two grandkids?”

I saw tears and the corner of her eyes. She walked in and sat at my desk. Dabbing with a crumpled tissue, she smiled at me, glowing, though her eyes still held a shadow of sadness, a hint that heavy things still weighed her down. She didn’t have to say it. I knew she was thinking about dad.

“I can’t wait!” She was energized by my sister’s announcement, her spirits lifted higher than I could have ever helped her reach. And I inwardly felt guilty. Guilty that I could not help her find the hope and joy she had so desperately needed. Guilty for not working harder to be her support, instead, relying on her to be mine.

“Your sister is already thinking about new baby decorations and a new nursery. It’s a good thing I convinced her to store all the old stuff here. Can you imagine, if it had been given away, like she wanted? I’ll have to start sorting it all out soon…and getting stuff out of the attic! And think about where they’ll put it! They are practically busting the seams of their house already.”

Her enthusiasm, however, was waning, and I could see where her emotions were headed. It was the topic that I had resisted approaching. But it was inevitable. It was always there, always something to face.

“You know…you know how much your dad would have loved this?” It had been said. Dad had been brought back.

“Of course, Mom. Another grandkid…another boy or girl for him to spoil endlessly? A reason to sneak off and buy another toy or some candy when no one is looking? He wouldn’t know what to do with himself, he’d be so excited. Remember the first time around? I think dad went shopping right away. Came home with the car loaded.”

My mom smiled at that, smiled at the memory. I did too. New crib, baby seat, bedding, clothes, toys – my dad had bought it all. Practically bought out the small local store that specialized in baby accessories. And he had gone all by himself, which made him even prouder. He had gone out, even though he was fatigued, the cancer already in its preliminary stages of destruction. It had been a symbolic victory that day, filled with the hope of change. It had been illusionary, but for that short period of time, everything shimmered with new vitality.

“He loved being a grandfather. Do you know how much it meant for him? To be around to see one grandchild? He relished every minute. Even…even when he was really sick, he told me that, as long as his little granddaughter was around, he would find the energy to sit with her, play with her. He found it…invigorating...like a fountain of youth…”

Mom spoke wistfully, and I wondered what life was really like for her now. I just didn’t know, couldn’t relate. The way mom and I missed dad wasn’t the same, would never be. She would continue to live the shared life of herself and my father, despite her now single status. I wondered if she would ever move on, or even if she wanted to. And I wondered what it must be like to love like that.

“The first time I called him a grand-dad, it brought tears to his eyes. Can you believe that? Tears from me calling your father a grand-dad? In all the time we spent together, I never thought he’d react like that…and I realized then how much he longed for that moment. He had been waiting and anticipating that day for a very long time, longer than even I expected.”

It wasn’t something I expected either. My dad, a sentimental soft-heart, moved to tears by a single word – by the meaning of that single word. My dad, taking to heart what that word meant for him, and the new role in life he was about to take on. Reconciling that with my own image of my father, the father that, while I love and respected, felt somewhat distant to, was such a struggle to me. And, even though I could see the changes he had made, the evolution he undertook as the years had past, the construction I had of him from my youngest years had failed follow suit. It had remained constant, immovable. Or I had kept it constant and immovable.

“You know…you and your dad were very different in a lot of respects. But I know one thing…I know that you love me and your sister more than anything else. And you get that from your father. He would be so proud of you, and how you helped me and your sister after he was gone. I don’t think I told you how much it meant for you to stay at home, and just be here….”

I looked up at my mom, found her intently taking inventory over my own emotions. She knew more that I felt she should. And it was…a relief. Maybe I hadn’t failed. Even if I hadn’t been everything my mom needed, I had been something. I had at least been something.

“Your dad…he…he saw so much potential in you. Dad imagined a life for you that was filled with the wonderful things he held dear in his own life – and I know he tended to be a little dogmatic in how he expressed himself, but it simple comes down to his desire to see you build your own life. One, he hoped, that would bring you the happiness that you and your sister brought him.”

I looked at my mom, who hesitantly waited. In the past, she had steered clear of the topic, knew my frustrations with dad for constantly nagging me. This was new territory for both of us. I stayed silent, unsure of how to answer her. Unsure if I could tell her the things I had spoken out loud only a few hours before.

“I know…I know. It’s early yet, to be thinking about those things. But, I felt it was something you should know, especially now. I just think about how happy your dad would have been to see you start your own life, build your own family, care for your own kids…I can see how complete things would have been then, if he had been given the chance to see it.”

Her words kept me silent. They reconfirmed for me what I believed my mom and dad had envisioned for my life. It was filled with what they had, based on the things they valued. And my own ideas, beginning to differ remarkably from theirs, would never quite allow me to find the success they had dreamed for me. And while they would want me to be happy, want me to find my own way, they would be disappointed. I could seen them being disappointed. I needed to figure out if I could live with that.