Harold

I don't know why but lately I have been thinking of my former father-in-law, Harold.  Harold was so much like my dad.  They were both from Arkansas, both stubborn and both barks were worse than their bite.  I loved him from the start, he was grumpy in a lovable way. Just like my dad. When my dad passed away, Harold told me that he would be proud to be my dad now.  I took him up on that.

He adored Alison, called her "Alley Cat" which she finally got used to.  We would come over and visit about the same time in the evening. Alison would crawl up on his lap (she was five or so) and they would watch "Tom & Jerry", the cartoon.  Harold enjoyed this time watching and laughing with her.  He turned into the softie that I knew and loved.  It is funny that Grace loves "Tom & Jerry" and will pick that cartoon above others.

When I asked for a divorce from Gary, his step son, he turned on me.  I became the "bitch" (his words, not mine). It hurt deep to lose him.  Actions do have consequences, I suppose.  Like others, he knew the marriage was dead, there was nothing left.  I don't carry the guilt anymore, I am forgiven and healed.

The Thursday before Father's Day the following year, my sister-in-law, Bonnie fell outside a restaurant.  She went into a four hour coma.  The only reason I knew was that Human Resources at work called me since they couldn't get ahold of Gary, he was in Washington.  I called Ardis (Harold's wife) for more details.  She wanted to go to Bonnie but Harold and his son, Ron, were in the middle of installing a water heater and couldn't leave.  I told her I'd come by and get her and take her to the hospital.

When I got there, Harold met me and thanked me over and over for coming to help her.  He hugged me and I felt so good.  This was his way of telling me all is forgiven.

Bonnie came out of the coma and was fine.  The following Sunday was Father's Day.  I really wanted to go and visit Harold but I felt that that was the family's day with him.  I would go on the next day, Monday.

What happened is a blurr after my phone rang on Sunday.  I can't remember but I think it was Bonnie who told me that they were all going to go to dinner when Harold stood up, took a couple of steps and fell over dead from a heart attack.  I drove to their home to find everyone in shock, Harold was still on the floor flat on his back, eyes closed like he was asleep.  Since it was Father's Day, the coroner was hard to get ahold of.  It was hours before anyone showed.   I hugged Ardis, Bonnie and other family members that I can't remember, offered my help and left in shock.

I did come back to help the next day with errands.  I had to wait for awhile since Ardis and Bonnie were at the funeral home.  While I waited, I had the urge to write a poem.  When I was going through counseling before the divorce, my counselor suggested that I write in a diary to deal with my emotional state. I hate diaries, so, I negotiated writing poetry. 

On the day of the funeral, I bought a single red rose.  I typed the poem that I wrote on parchment paper, rolled it up like a scroll and tied it with a ribbon onto the rose.  When we were all walking by the casket, I placed the rose ontop, looked at him, cried, and said goodbye.

I was asked to come to the house afterwards. Ardis had a basement den where everyone went.  All the flowers were in the upstairs livingroom.  I saw the rose there with the poem still intact.  After mingling awhile, it was time to leave.  I almost made it out the door when Ron, Harold's son, grabbed my arm.  He was holding the opened scroll and tears were in his eyes.  He said, choking on tears, "I thought the florist did the poem....I read all the way to the bottom and saw it was you...it is so touching, thanks." Then he hugged me.  Ron had always been distant and for a moment we were close as siblings.

This is the poem (all lower case intentionally):

to harold,

the dark clouds torment the daylight

this solemn space frozen in time

i sit motionless with emotions held in tight

hearing words dissolve in the air like an ocean mist

 

reflections in a pool of memories form

splashes of laughter for just my eyes to see

your wrinkled brow of fatherly concern

other tiny expressions of love known only to me

 

He took my father away years ago

with compassion He brought you into my life

thru the years my love for you did slowly grow

regardless of moments of short lived strife

 

my choices shattered the image i held in your eyes

tearing the shared respect and love for awhile

then our paths crossed again taking away the despise

I warmed to see sincerity and hope reflected in your smile

 

gently i place a single rose atop the cold pine

eternal sleep now the only possession you own

a warm tear on my face travels down an invisible line

turning, i walk away............alone

 

love, dena