Moments

Moments

By: Lora Bayh

During the time I took care of my father, just before he died, I sat and wrote the following song as he slept. He was fragile, and depended on me, after years and years of being the rock of my entire life. For that time our roles had been reversed. I thought of how…in spite of how things seemed, not even that painful circumstance, or the passing of time, nor my increasing age, would ever change the fact that I would always be daddy‘s little girl. At forty-two, I still am to this day. Ask me when I’m ninety, and I will surely tell you, “Yes, I’m still daddy’s little girl.”. His Birthday is coming a week from this Saturday, the 26th. This will be the 11th Birthday he has missed. He would be 83. His last birthday before he passed, his illness was far too advanced, and he did not possess the strength to join in the celebration, we, his children and grandchildren had laid out for him, and that, to me, finally signaled how close to the end we had come. Rather than cake he opted for med’s and rest. Daddy, had he one ounce of strength left to afford, would have gone along to make us feel better. That night, while sitting alone with him, he finally woke to find me sitting in the chair with this song in my hand, crying. I had been trying so hard to come to terms with it all, and he knew this without my explanation. It was that night, though only for the briefest time, that daddy would assume the role of daddy for the very last time. He spoke with me about the end, how much he loved me, his hopes and dreams for my life which were so simple…true contentment and happiness, and then some more about his love for me. Up to that point, I had sidestepped talking about the “end”, somehow fearing that to speak of it would somehow invite it to creep closer. The song spoke so much of it that I wished to avoid sharing it, but then he asked me to sing it to him, as he patted the empty space in the safe hollow of his arm, inviting me to cuddle next to him. I thought that if there was an acceptable stage the crook of him arm was definitely it. I then gave him a great big kiss and squeeze, and snuggled up in bed with him, laying in his still seemingly strong arms for the last time he was able to tolerate me there, comfortably. I closed my eyes and sang him these simple words. Not the best I had, or have, ever composed, but words springing from the deepest, and purest crevices of my most tender, and frightened heart, which at that moment, beat only FOR that “moment”…for it contained my whole world, a world that was slipping too quickly away from me.

I was daddy’s little girl. He meant everything to me.

The most precious times I know were spent upon his knee.

But those yesterday’s had wings, And they have brought us to this place.

Where the strength of youth once stood I now see daddy’s aging face.

Years thrown to the wind. Where did all those years go?

Now we’ve come to the end, but I still need daddy so.

I know he must leave and he’ll take part of my world, but his love will always live in daddy’s little girl.

As I look upon him now I have never loved him more.

I want to crawl upon his knee like I did so long before.

And if I have one regret It’s that I thought he’d never go.

I took for granted so much time…. Now I want that time back so!

Years thrown to the wind. Where did all those years go?

Now we’ve come to the end, but I still need daddy so.

I know he must leave and he’ll take part of my world,

but his love will always live In daddy’s little girl.

Your love will always live…. here in daddy’s little girl.

There was a span of comfortable silence, and I felt his tears on my forehead which was pressed close to his cheek. As I was wiping away my own he said, “I don’t believe anyone’s ever written a song for me before. Thanks for such a wonderful present, it was beautiful. This has been the best birthday. Now let‘s have some of that cake and get you off to bed.” He pretended to want some birthday cake, and only attempted a couple of bites, then became very tired. Those were our last moments where he was the daddy, and I was his little girl. I love that memory. It’s probably my favorite from a list spanning a lifetime of favorites. For all of these 11 years I have sang that song to myself. A song that no one knows. Our song. It is the anthem to a moment that I will treasure until my own last breath is drawn. It’s melody will serenade me to the light, when I will see him again, whole and strong. I know he will lead me to our Father, he and mother had been doing that since the day I was born. I have often wondered what happened to that copy of the song that I left on his bedside table. After all was said and done, and his possessions were divided amongst the four of us, no one had seen it. I’ve been a little blue for a few days. Having just made it through August with mom’s birth and subsequent death anniversaries. Equally difficult for me are the months of September and October. Dad died exactly one month and one day from that night, October 27, 1998. Today, the random thought occurred to me that it might be fun to read one of dad’s Grisham novels. Over the ten months of his illness I had bought him in-numerable paperback novels to read, sometimes two per week, and he was a huge John Grisham fan. So, Grisham seemed appropriate. I pulled out the worn copy of “The Runaway Jury”, and flipped through it’s pages in some strange hope of getting a whiff of him. Instead, a sheet of paper dropped to the floor. It was oddly familiar. I opened it up, and there was our song. You can imagine, I lost it! I read through the words, already imprinted on my brain long ago, and noticed there was more there then my hand had penned. The writing was not as beautiful and precise as my dad’s writing had always been, but it was still recognizable all the same. It simply said, “My dearest little girl, you have grown into a warm and loving young woman, and I’m so proud of you. Be happy, and live abundantly with my blessing. May the Lord keep you safe, and well cared for in my absence. Be as wonderful a mother as you have always been a daughter. You have given me the greatest gift of your love. I will love you always and you will always be daddy‘s little girl.”

A very wise person once said, “Life is not measured by the breaths we take, but by the moments that take our breath away.” By that measure I am blessed beyond even my own ability to completely comprehend, and I will never stop being grateful. Losing someone you love is hard, but they are never gone entirely. I know, beyond all else I know, daddy knew that I needed that today. Thank you, Happy Birthday, and I love you daddy. I can't wait to wake up tomorrow, and get busy creating more moments.