Family, Community, and Higher Education by Jenkins Toby S.;

Author:Jenkins, Toby S.;
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 1114648
Publisher: Taylor & Francis Group

Part III

Fathers

9 Gifts From My Father

Sondra Frank

I am a product of a single-parent household where my mother was the primary caregiver. Although my father had an on-again, off-again presence for many of my adolescent years, I honestly don’t have many memories of longing for him when he wasn’t around. I never really connected with him fully as a father until last year when I received a call informing me that he was in the hospital with throat cancer and that he might not make it. It had been 16 years since I’d last seen my father but I didn’t hesitate to pack my bag and head down south to Alabama where my roots run deep. The days that led up to my arrival were nothing short of disquieting. How would I respond to seeing him after so many years? How would he? Would I even recognize him? So many questions ran through my mind with regards to this news, most of them having to do with why it had to take a tragedy for us to see each other.

This man, who stood 6 feet 5 inches tall and was once a very strong man was now lying in a hospital bed withering away. And even though I spent a better part of my life blaming him for much of my shortcomings, a love that I didn’t even know existed rose to the surface. It was genuine. Being there for him didn’t feel like a duty, but rather my desired service. To my surprise, although I was angry at the choices he made in his life, the nurturer in me went to work making sure he was cared for, not taken advantage of, that he had an advocate working on his behalf (because he didn’t have insurance) and that he was as comfortable as one could be in his situation.

For four months I was back and forth to see him and I can honestly say that my journey to healing began the first day I saw him in his hospital bed and still continues to this day 1 year later. Each time I visited, I would stay for hours and I could tell that his heart was full by my presence. I was his part-time, out-of-town caregiver and the nurses who cared for him on a daily basis were always happy to see me because he allowed me to care for him in a way that he wouldn’t allow others. When I arrived, they would always say that they knew I was coming—everyday leading up to my visit he would announce that I was on my way. With each trip, I came bearing gifts, toiletries, PJs, clothes, and skull caps, which were his favorite. We often sat in silence, watching TV, or I would spend the time working to make sure he was comfortable. He couldn’t speak well due to the trachea put into his throat, but he always managed to thank me several times throughout the day. Regardless of his communication challenges he would constantly tell me that he was proud of me and that he loved me.

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