A Leap of Faith by Cara Fidler

   I desperately wanted to visit my elderly father who was 85, but my car was in need of repairs and wouldn't make the three hour drive to my sister's home where he lived on the Eastern Shore of Maryland. Short on cash, I decided to write my sister, Erica, a letter, and try to appeal to her sense of basic decency. 

Dear Erica,

   I am writing in the hopes that you and I can set aside our differences and work together so that I can come for a visit to see Daddy. It's been sometime now since I've seen him, and I very much want to visit him before it's too late. Unfortunately, my car needs some repairs in order for me to make the trip, and I am short on cash at this time. Could you possibly lend me $300.00? It would mean a great deal to me and I will repay you when I can. 

   I know that things have been strained between us and I'm sorry about that. I would like for us to try to work out our differences. I am hoping that you and I can do this, and that over time, the damage that's been done can be mended, and that you and I can have a decent relationship. I feel very strongly that as sisters who have a shared history together this is something that would benefit both of us. I am hoping that you feel the same way. 

  On that note, I will close. As I said, your helping me make this trip possible would be greatly appreciated and never forgotten. Looking forward to hearing back from you, 

 Love,

 Ashley

    I folded the letter and sealed it in an envelope, grabbed my coat and scarf and headed for the post office on a bitterly cold day in January. It was Saturday. After I mailed the letter, I felt an enormous sense of relief. It was not an easy thing for me to do---appeal to my sister's sense of fair play in the wake of some nasty arguments where harsh words were spoken by both of us. But my desire to see my father trumped all that. 

   A week later, I received a letter in the mail with my sister's return address. My hands were shaking as I opened it and began to read, not knowing what to expect. 

 Dear Ashley,

   I'm very sorry to have to tell you this, but Dad passed away on Saturday evening at 6:00. 

   "Oh no!" I said. I couldn't believe what I was reading and tears welled up in my eyes.  Daddy died. I continued reading: "He passed as peacefully as one could hope for, surrounded by his loved ones: Jeremy and I, Liz and Sam, Uncle Steven and Uncle Jim." 

  But not me. I was his oldest child and I should've been there. I started crying. What were the odds that my father would die the same day I mailed the letter? I was too late. The reality of this cut me to the quick. I wiped away my tears and finished reading the letter. There were details about the cremation and a small memorial service which had already passed since she had retrieved the letter from her mailbox just as they were leaving for the memorial service. 

She had enclosed a check for $300.00. I sat down on the edge of my bed, my mind racing. The worst possible news. I didn't get to see my father before he died. What a blow. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. I sat there for awhile in silence before going into the bathroom to wash my face. I knew what I had to do next. I went into the livingroom, picked up the phone and dialed my sister's number. She picked up.

   "Hi Erica...it's Ashley."

   "Hi," she said.

   "I got your letter. I can't believe it," I said fighting back tears. I continued, "I always thought Daddy would live into his 90's..." 

 "Well he had been sick for awhile, fighting pneumonia." she informed me. 

  I listened as she filled me in on recent events that had transpired. When she paused, I blurted out, "I should've been there. I wanted to be there."

 "I tried to reach you by phone, but the number had been disconnected. I really believe that on a spiritual level Dad knew you tried to reach him and that he could rest in peace at last." she offered.

  Her words comforted me. I could only hope that this was true. I told her that I was sorry for her loss as she had been his primary caretaker. She thanked me. The rest of the conversation was about how she and my other sister, Liz, hadn't had a chance to look into how much was left in his estate which was to be divided amongst the three of us, and that she was going to send me a few of his cherished possessions and memorabilia. I thanked her for this and for the check which I told her I was going to repay as soon as possible. Together, we managed to keep the conversation civil and focused on my father's passing. No harsh words were spoken. No fault finding. She concluded by saying she would be in touch regarding our inheritance. 

   After I hung up, I sat down on the couch thinking about what she'd said. Perhaps the Lord had a hand in this and that my father knew on some level that I had reached out to him thus paving the way for him to make a peaceful exodus to the other side. I wanted to believe this. That was all I had to cling to, now, aside from so many wonderful memories. To simply chalk it up to coincidence didn't resonate with the reality of the situation. If my sister had given me anything, it was the possibility that he had a sixth sense about what I conveyed in my letter. I was grateful to her for this. Afterall, the Lord worked in mysterious ways. If ever there was a time to keep the faith, it was now.