I always wish my Dad could be here with me now. I have wished it so bad, it physically hurts. I always wonder, what he would think about my life now. I went to a wedding recently and watched the Father-Daughter dance and about fell to pieces. My Dad didn’t get to do that for me.
(Insert fancy flashback intro)
I am in high school. I am in the drill team (like that is a big surprise) and we are having our end of the year ‘stage show’. Woohoo!
You know when you are in high school and you just can’t see life past graduation? Yeah, I was there. High school was big time and I had a big blonde helmet head….
Anyway, I was in a special group of girls that got to choreograph a dance on our own and we all chose to do one with our fathers. It was a fun upbeat dance with us in poodle skirts and our Dad’s in jeans and white t-shirts and penny loafers. All the Dads played a silly instrument and my Dad played the guitar. Yep! Front and center! We found him a small Mickey Mouse guitar to strum to the beat of the song – Bop With Ya Baby by Dan Seals.
The night of the dance, the audience ooo’ed and awww’ed and laughed and loved it! It was definitely a hit. There I was in my pink poodle skirt and saddle shoes skipping around and dancing with my Dad with a big plastic grin on my face so big that my lips were quivering and starting to hurt! You have to know that my Dad did NOT dance in public and he certainly didn’t SING. He was a bit of an introvert but there was in all his glory – just for me.
So, the dance is over and my senior year ends. I waltz into college and adult-hood, packing away the drill team uniforms and poodle skirts. My Dad approached me one day and asked what he was supposed to do with his Mickey Mouse guitar. I looked at him puzzled… He produced his guitar from the stage show and said he would keep it ‘safe’ in the event we needed it some day.
Rolling my eyes, I shook my head and went about my business. First of all, if I had children they were certainly going to be quiet shy little girls and not prone to rowdy guitar playing. What was he thinking?
About 6 months after my first son was born (wink, wink), my Dad pulled out the Mickey Mouse guitar with a big smile. I’m sure there is a picture somewhere of Shane and Papa with that plastic thing plucking away. As I stand swaying and rocking Shane to sleep later like only a Mom can do, I see the guitar mixed in with his toys and think about the dance.
Time has moved on, my 2 children (both BOYS) are about to turn 17and 13 this summer. My parents have moved twice since I was in high school and Dad has been gone now for 2 and half years.
Mom met me for lunch and as I turned to leave, she said she had something for me and we went to her car. She pulled out the Mickey Mouse guitar from the front seat and handed it to me. He kept it and moved it with him all that time! She said he kept it safe in the attic for me.
Wow!
I went home and told my husband the story. His response was, “What are you supposed to do with that thing now...?”
As I sat there not knowing how to respond, I realized he just didn’t get it.
That guitar will be with me forever no matter what, but what a token and symbol!
I sometimes feel odd talking to people bout the grief of my Dad. You see, in my mind – people who don’t have a close relationship with their Dads don’t really know the pain of what it is to miss that intimacy. Yet, there is a different sort of torment and pain, the pain of not knowing and having that in a Dad at all?
I realize that no matter how much I miss my Dad, you can’t go back in time. You must go forward, and with that – he really is still here. His presence lingers if I pay close enough attention. I really didn’t need a plastic Mickey Mouse guitar to remind me, but it definitely helped and just in time for Father’s Day.
I can still hear his voice, see his smile, smell his everyday smell and feel his hands in mine.
Here’s to you Dad!
The Dance
Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared beneath the stars above
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known you'd ever say goodbye
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance
Holding you I held everything
For a moment wasn't I the king
But if I'd only known how the king would fall
Hey who's to say you know I might have changed it all
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end the way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance I could have missed the pain
But I'd of had to miss the dance
Yes my life is better left to chance
I could have missed the pain but I'd of had to miss the dance
-by Garth Brooks
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