She hadn’t intended to visit her father but her plans changed when his doctor called: If you want to say goodbye to your dad, today’s the day. She prayed God would help her father hold on till she could get there after her interview. She had waited months to hear from this company and spent a week rehearsing her résumé. Surely they would’ve understood if she had rescheduled but what kind of first impression would that have made: Here’s another woman who can’t choose between work and home, or here’s a woman who really has her priorities straight? She decided not to give them the option and kept her business to herself as she triumphed through their investigation processes—all the while praying God would help her father hold on till she could get there. She took the backstreets to avoid rush hour traffic—that’s what she told herself but in truth, she needed a sense of solitude to prepare her words. She had never been a daddy’s girl, he wasn’t that kind of man. He was a provider, protector, pillar in the community—the kind of father fatherless children wish for, but she often felt he would’ve been better served by a different daughter—someone who didn’t need him so much—not his provision, protection, or prestige, but him. His time. His affection. They had loved each other as best they could, but they weren’t right for each other. That didn’t matter now. For her own peace of mind, she needed him to pass onto the next world feeling there was no unfinished business between them, that she loved him for who he was and forgave him for who he wasn’t—even if, in her heart, she wasn’t quite there. And she prayed God would help her get there.
March 9, 2013
