There is a tree on a road near my parents’ house that I love. It is a giant valley oak, one of those that spear up from the floor of the San Joaquin Valley, towering over fields of cotton and alfalfa, running along dry creek beds, and shading dairy farms. When I was young, I would watch it lose its leaves in the fall as I drove to school, see it dark and looming through the thick Tule fog in the winter, and then fill out with fresh green leaves in the spring as the alfalfa field sprang up below its spreading branches.
That oak tree no longer turns green in the spring; and though it still stands tall and strong, I know that eventually its smaller branches will break off, and then its larger ones, until it no longer stands there, quietly marking the seasons.
And as I sit in my father’s hospital room, waiting for him to return from surgery and hoping he has been healed by our modern day wizards, I think about the tree I passed today on my way to the hospital..
There is an old Welsh lullaby my father loves called Suo Gan. An odd choice, one might think, for a farmer from the Central Valley. But it’s a beautiful song, and reminds him, I suspect, of his grandfather who he is named for, and who sailed on a boat from Wales when he was only a baby.
I know that someday, like the oak, my father will fail, and I will be forced to say goodbye to this man who has shaped so much of my life. I will not have forever with him.
But not yet.
I am thirty-three years old. I am a wife, and a mother. I am the caretaker of others, and a counselor to a precious few. Yet, I do not feel grown enough to face living in this world without my father. Perhaps I never will be, but I don’t want to find out anytime soon.
He is sleeping now, having fallen asleep to the playlist my son listens to at bedtime, which includes my father’s favorite Welsh lullaby. My mother sleeps in the chair next to him, resting, but still watchful over the man she has been married to for over forty years. And I watch silently, more aware than ever of the passing seasons.
*Hugs!*
*big big huggles* Love you.
Hugs and lots of love.
Linda
E, wishing all the best for you and your family. What an emotional time for all of you. I am so very close with my father and when I read “I know that someday, like the oak, my father will fail, and I will be forced to say goodbye to this man who has shaped so much of my life. I will not have forever with him.” It made me think to my own family and circumstances; and I teared up just a little. I sincerely hope that you have many more springs with your father.
Jacki
you express you thoughts in such a lovely manner, i love the photograph and even though we may not know each other i send you lots of hugs and wish you well. Nobody is ever ready to face the worlld without a person who has shaped them but you know what when they leave that is when we turly tested in using what they have taught us to pull through., I wish your Father a well recovery and send him lots of hugs as well.
One day you will be forced to say goodbye to your dad. It’s all the days you’ve already had with him and the ones between now and that last day that count though. So make the most of them and love and cherish him just as you do today.
Never forget that , even after the fateful day, you will still have forever with him as long as he lives in your heart . And he will always be part of your heart because you love him so very much and that can never be taken away.
I hope and pray for you that that day is a long way off in the future
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