Southern Sunrise

that he’s my father because he isn’t. “He came to the door and didn’t even know who I was.” I think back to that day, avoiding looking at my father while I tell him this part. “I told him who I was and,” I exhale, “I don’t know what I was expecting but he just looked at me like I was a pizza delivery person. He smiled at me, and stepped out of his house to make sure that no one heard our conversation. A conversation that lasted less than three minutes.” I look at my father who just stands there looking at me waiting for me to finish before he says something. “He thanked me for coming,” I laugh bitterly, “and wished me well right after he told me that I wasn’t really welcomed.” The hurt now coming back. “When I left here, I was broken,” I say. “I drove away, and I was numb. I didn’t know what to believe or what to think.” I walk over to the rock and sit down on it. “I was so fucking lost, Dad. I just …” I put my head down. “I did stupid things,” I say. “Took risks with my life for nothing just because I thought I didn’t care if I lived or died. I went on missions that I shouldn’t have been on, but I did it because there was nothing to come back to, so it didn’t matter if I died.”

“If you died?” he says. “If you died.” He puts his hands to his chest. “Do you know what that would do to me? I had to bury one son. Do you think I wanted to bury another one? I was numb when you left. I would call your phone number every single hour even though I had the phone in my hand and knew you wouldn’t answer. I would call and leave you messages. I would call just to hear your voice.” The tears come down his face. “I wanted just a minute with you to tell you that I loved you.” I try to say something, but it’s his turn to let it all out, and I have to give it to him. I have to hear the pain he suffered. I need to accept I did that to him. “Casey found you and came to see me. I got on a plane to come to you, but then they stopped me at the gate.” My mouth opens. “Said they didn’t have anyone there with your name.” It’s then that I see everything unravel. What I did to him was so fucked up I didn’t deserve his love. I didn’t deserve anything he gave me. “I waited outside those gates for two days, and then I left. I came back here, and I would wait. I waited for Casey to give me a crumble of news. Waited every single day, not knowing if you were alive or dead. Not knowing if you needed me, not knowing if you were okay. I couldn’t help you.” He throws up his hand. “Useless, that is what I was.”

“You came to see me?” I ask, still shocked at that. “I didn’t know.”

“I have to think that there was a reason for that. Some sick and twisted reason that God kept you away from me.” The anguish pours out of him. “That rock.” He points at the rock I’m sitting on. “I would come out here every single night after dinner when the kids would get ready for bed, and I would talk to you. I would hope you were okay. I would replay every single fucking memory I had of you over and over—year after year. From the first time they placed you in my arms, I was so fucking scared. I was never more scared of anything in my life. But you stopped crying as if you knew that I was going to make everything okay for you. From the first time you fell asleep on my chest to the time you came to me and told me you were getting married, I was so proud of the man you were. So fucking proud. I didn’t care whose DNA you had. You were mine. You are mine.” He points at his chest.

“I am, Dad,” I say finally. “I was a little shit, and I was brought up better than that,” I say. “You taught me better than that.”

“I did,” he tells me.

“I died,” I say, and he gasps. “Five months ago, I was held as a prisoner when our mission went haywire.”

“Oh my god.” He puts his hands in front of his mouth.

“They beat me,” I tell him. “Tortured me, and at one point, I begged God to take me. But …” I wipe my eyes. “You know people say that you see the bright white light, and I always thought it was a lie until I saw it myself. I knew at that moment I was dead, knew it in my heart. And then all this sadness came over me. I was going to die, and my family wouldn’t know. I wanted one more chance to tell you that you were the best dad anyone could ever have. I wanted to tell you that I want to be just like you. I wanted to hug you, and I wanted you to kiss me right behind the ear, just like you always did. Even when I was twenty.” I turn my head now. “It’s why I put my cross tattoo there.”

“Son,” he says, coming to me and hugging me, and I cry in his arms, just like I did when I was younger. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.” This right here, this is who my father is, this man who I hurt with all my words holds me as he has always done my whole life. Holding me up when I can’t stand, he makes sure that I get my strength from him.

“I’m so sorry,