TheBanyanTree: Things I Wish I'd Told Dad...

[Dee Churchill]

The last month my Dad was alive, he was confined to the hospital, fighting
the cancer that was killing him. We talked about a lot of things, not just
then but the whole final year of his life. And still, when I think back,
there are so many things I wish I'd told him...
 
Just this morning, for instance, for no reason I can think of, I flashed
back to one particular evening visit in his hospital room. Dad suddenly got
a worried frown on his face. "Sis," he said, "you kids know I've always
loved you, don't you?"
 
I was stunned. "Of course we do," I assured him. "It would never have
occurred to us that you didn't!" 
 
He looked greatly relieved and we went on to talk of other things. But this
morning I wish I had told him this...
 
When I was still in grade school...I don't know -- perhaps eighth grade --
having an autograph book was the "in" thing. We'd pass those things around
and have everyone put in some clever line or poem or whatever...and do the
same with the ones passed to us. One evening at home, I asked Dad to put his
contribution in there. He browsed through what had already been written and
then added this:
 
"Beautiful hands are those that do/ work that is good and kind and true."
Then he signed his named formally. 
 
I was, in my childish "wisdom," greatly disappointed. How dull. How
unoriginal. How terribly *grown up.* 
 
An interesting thing came to pass...the thing I wish I had told Dad that
evening in the hospital. I don't know what eventually happened to that
autograph book. I do know, out of all the funny, witty, "original" entries,
the only one I remember is Dad's. And maybe that's because, to me, the line
described his own hands.
 
Stubby-fingered and work-worn, nails always trimmed with a pocket knife,
those hands had labored all his life. He used those hands to do the things
that kept us comfortable and safe. Those hands built and planted and
disciplined and comforted. They always did exactly what he had
counseled...work that was good and kind and true.
 
I hope he knows, somehow, we knew he had beautiful hands. I hope he knows we
always loved him.
 
Hugs, Dee...