I woke up to a glorious sunny Sunday, remembering it wasn't so glorious. My father had found out he was dying. A tumour was cutting short his time; he had only a few months to redeem himself. I quietly got up to dress for church and heard mom and dad talking in the next room. I bent down to the vent and heard dad's sobbing words choked out between tears of fear, asking; "Lorraine, I'm afraid. Help me." She tried to console him "If you want to be saved, you need to find GOD. I can't be your god anymore."
Through the grate I saw that he continued to cry on her shoulder. Finally he managed to pull himself together. I swiftly stood up. I pretended to search for a dropped beret in case they saw me at the grate. Mom walked in to tell me breackfast was ready and to come down. We all slowly descended the stairs to the kitchen and sat at the table. I looked up into dad's red, watery eyes and couldn't accept his state. My daily life had always been regulated by his violent moods. I could not remember when he had not been abusive or controlling. To see him reduced to my level of fear was a punishment I had hoped for . But I wasn't comfortable with the change once it actually happened.
On the way to church, many conflicting emotions battled in my young heart. When we arrived, I got out of the car and saw dad reaching for mom's hand clenching it tightly in fear. I looked at my brother in amazement; then I turned to my sisters and took their hands and followed my parents inside to our pew. I sat beside my father near the aisle. Dad took out his rosary and prayed, sobbing between the words. I looked up and saw a shaft of light shining on him. The warm light reflected from his tears and created a halo of brightness around his face. For the first time in my life I felt safe. With my new found bravery I slid my hand into his hand which was lying on his lap. I looked up into his eyes; he looked down into mine. He smiled and a sob broke from him. That told me he'd found THE ANSWER.
I felt God's power working between us with a strength of energy that kept us bound for what seemed a timeless moment. I squeezed his hand to share the love I couldn't have shown him before. He rubbed my hand with his thumb. We looked down at our hands; then slowly into each other's eyes. Together we gazed at the cross. I finally turned to look at mom. She was watching us with tears in her eyes, a warm smile of relief and joy on her lined face. I couldn't help crying also, my heart ached with the love and peace we'd found. GOD had given us a miracle.
Dad lived another year. His change of character made that precious to me. The quiet love that we shared at the end convinced me that his soul had found peace.
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