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“Babe, I have to go… He is my dad and it’s not looking good,” said an exasperated Tim Barron Jr. to his wife.

“I know you have to go, but it’s not convenient is all I’m saying,” said his wife.

“The end of our life is never convenient for those that have to live without us.”

“I know” she said in a sympathetic tone.

“Besides, this time is different. I have received multiple calls and I have missed the last three scheduled visits. I have to go.”

“Well, travel safe and let me know when you get there.”

“I will,” he said then kissed his wife goodbye then took one last look at his own son sleeping in the bassinet. 

“Take a picture. Your dad will appreciate it,” she suggested.

He fished his phone from his pocket and took a picture. The baby stirred at the sounds of the phone capturing an image. He stood still and watched the baby sleep.

He caught himself daydreaming and returned to the present. He returned his phone to a pocket and found his keys in another.  He said another goodbye to his wife and left his home. He looked back as if he would never see home again. He always did this when he left to visit his father.

As the engine to his car roared to life, his eye caught the glint from the rear-view mirror of a classic dodge parked next to his new car. He backed his car out of the driveway, then put the vehicle in park. He walked up his driveway and to he took a number of photographs of his father’s 1968 Dodge Charger R/T.

He looked through the driver’s side window and saw a 16-year-old version of himself sitting behind the wheel. He looked at the passenger seat and saw his father instructing him on how to drive. This memory made him smile.

“This is an automatic so there is no need to worry about a clutch. Let your foot off the break and feel the car roll forward” said Junior’s father. Instinctively his right foot touched the gas and the car lurched forward throwing the passengers back into their bucket seats. He remembered slamming on the breaks throwing both passengers into the dashboard and steering wheel respectively.  “No son,” said his father then added “Just take your foot off the break.” Second time was the charm and Junior did what his father directed without deviation. The car rolled forward a few feet before his father said “Okay, hit the break.” 

He remembered slamming on the breaks sending both father and son into the steering wheel and the dash. “Okay, let use less breaks this time,” said his dad with a chuckle.

Junior was pulled back to the present as he wiped a tear from his cheek. He shook it off, took one more picture of the car and a few of the front of the house. Satisfied, he returned to his car and began his 7-hour drive to his dads assisted living facility. 

About half way through his drive, he received a call from “Tender Care Assisted Living.” 

“Hello.”

“Hi, it’s your fathers nurse. Are you getting close,” asked a well-mannered lady with a lovely voice.

“I’m about half way there. I have to stop for gas but I don’t plan on stopping for any other reason. Is Dad, okay?” 

There was a pause as if she were considering her words. “He was asking for you,” said the nurse.

“Well, tell him I’m on my way.”

“I will. Travel safe,” said the nurse as she disconnected.

Junior terminated the call on his end. He stopped for gas thirty minutes later at a large truck stop. He filled his tank, then stepped inside to purchase a coke. He took a few sips and began browsing the isles of various items for sale that are tailored to those who spend 16 hours a day in the cab of an 18-wheeler.

About half way though his coke he caught himself re-living another memory. He was playing baseball in collage, about to go up to the on-deck circle. He picked up a few bats and swung them around. He caught his father in the stands waving him. He didn’t return the wave and his father put his hand down. He would go up to bat and strike out.

“Why didn’t I wave back.” he asked himself. 

He threw the rest of his coke away and got back to driving. He was stopped again by a traffic accident about an hour away from his destination. He patiently waited for the police and paramedics to perform their duties. As he sat, he thought about the last time he drove anywhere with his father. It was two years ago, and they went to go get a few parts for his Charger.

“Well Son, I think this is my last ride in this car,” said his father.

“Why is that, Dad?”

“This car is more of a chore now then something I enjoy maintaining and driving around. Everywhere I go, someone is asking me if it’s for sale. A few old timers like me have some good memories about our younger years but those types of conversations are getting fewer by the month. Why don’t you take it and I can drive your old car for a while.”

“Do you mean it? Cause I would love to drive your car.”

“Yeah, I want something that I don’t have to worry about. These new cars are more reliable than these cars ever were. I can’t tell you how many times I turned the ignition and it didn’t start over the years. 

“Dad, I would love this car. Thank you.”

“I bought you a manual just in case you forgot how to adjust the timing or change out the breaks.”

He looked at the plastic bag resting on the back seat then looked back at his dad. “Thank you.”

“Your welcome.”

“Dad, you missed your turn.”

“No kiddo, I have one more thing to do.” He made a few more turns before taking a left onto route 3. As he made the turn, he hit the gas and left out an impressive amount of rubber onto the pavement. The Dodge fish-tailed before Dad expertly righted the car without taking his foot off the gas. They hit 120 miles per hour before Dad let off the gas and took the next exit.

He pulled his beloved Dodge into the driveway for the last time. The men shook hands. Dad went in for a hug that his son reluctantly returned. 

“Why didn’t I give the old man a hug,” he asked himself. “He just gave me his prized possession and I couldn’t give him a hug.”

As he mulled the possibilities over, he saw that he was being waved forward by a Highway Patrolman. He inched past the accident, stealing glances at the wreckage as he passed.

Thirty minutes later, he received another call from his father residence.

“I’m on my way. I got delayed by an accident, but I’m on my way” he said.

“Okay” was the answer and the call ended.

He began to get annoyed with the staff. “I told them that I was on the way” he said to himself and decided to have a word with the management tomorrow morning. 

He placed a call to the hotel near his father’s facility and made a reservation. He ended that call and heard his father voice “why don’t you stay here son,” he asked while pointing to a fold up couch.

“Dad, you know I can’t sleep with your snoring.”

“It never bothered you when you were a boy.”

He rolled his eyes hearing the story for the tenth time. Seeing his son’s annoyance, he stopped asking and put his hand up in surrender.

“Just trying to save you a few bucks son. No worries.”

“Thanks Dad. I didn’t mean to have an attitude” he said trailing off, not really knowing what else to say.

He decided to check into the hotel and drop his bag off and walk over to the facility. After this drive, his back and body were in knots. 

He checked into his hotel thirty minutes later. He dropped his bag off, made a quick call to his wife and began walking down the street.

He entered the lobby and was greeted by somber faces. His eyes got big and his face drooped. 

“Sir, your father has passed. I am so sorry for your loss” said one of the clerks.

Junior looked down at his shoes as tears descended from his eyes. He knew this day would come but now that it is here, he felt this wave of questions, emotions, and sorry wash over him.

“Why wasn’t I told that he was getting worse” exploded the son. “Why didn’t anyone tell me,” He screamed. Two large men appeared and helped him to a chair in a nearby sitting area. He looked up and saw a nurse place a box of tissues on the table between the chair he occupied and an empty chair two feet away. He sat in his grief for a few minutes. 

His father’s nurse took a seat in the empty chair and offered her condolences. She filled him in on when he died and answers all of the obvious questions. She then placed a letter on the table and asked him to take the note and read it when he got back to his hotel room.

“Your dad was a planner. He was thorough in the preparations he made for this eventuality. He thought through everything, even this moment.”

“What do you mean,” he asked.

“You live pretty far away. If he did die before you could say goodbye, he asked me to give you this letter” she finished indicating the envelope she placed on the table. “Let’s talk tomorrow” she said as she rose.”

“Okay” said Junior who struggled to his feet. 

He entered his hotel room a few minutes later then plopped down on the chair at the desk. He placed his father letter on the desk in front of him. He took a breath and removed the single sheet to paper:

Dear Son,

Hey Champ. If you’re reading this letter, I am gone. Just know that I love you and your sister very much. I won’t be around to tell you that anymore so this letter will have to suffice.   When you were born, you made me the happiest person in the world. I loved watching you grow up, learn how to make your way in this world, and hear of your travels and adventures. The last piece of advice I can give you is that life is short. Take every opportunity to spend time with those you love. They don’t have to be family or anyone in particular, but they should be important to you. Make good choices in life, and at the end of your life you will leave this earth like I have; with few regrets, a head full of memories, and a lifetime of achievements.  My biggest achievement though of course is being the father to you and your sister. I love you Son,

                                                                                                                       Dad,

The orphan began to cry. Through teary eyes, he read his father’s letter once more and suddenly felt a sense of guilt wash over him. He called his wife and let her know what had happened and that he would be busy for another few days. 

“I am so sorry honey” said the orphan’s wife.

“I wish I could have said goodbye.”

Their conversation turned to funeral arrangements and other topics that get discussed after a person dies. 

The next morning, he walked over to his father’s place. He met with his father’s nurse and collected all of his mementos and a few clothes. He donated the lot of the unmentionables, bed sheets, and a few nicknacks that his kids made for their grandpa.  He walked back to his hotel, retrieved his car and drove back to the facility to retrieve the boxes. 

“A man’s life being loaded into the trunk of a car” he thought to himself.

Three days later

“Honey, are you going to go through your dad’s box” asked the orphans wife from the laundry room.

“Yes.”

“Okay.”

“Okay” he repeated then took a seat at the kitchen table behind the box. He began picking through to a few items in front and found a few of the kid’s drawings. There was a bit of junk mail looked like it had been stuffed into the box at the last minute.  He reached for advertisements and found another blank envelope. He turned the envelope over and saw “if my son gets to say a final goodbye, give him this letter” written in his father’s block writing. He opened the envelope and found another single sheet of paper.

                             Dear Son,

If you’re reading this letter, I am gone. Just know that I love you and your sister very much. I won’t be around to tell you that anymore so this letter will have to suffice.  When you were born, you made me the happiest person in the world. I loved watching you grow up, learn how to make your way in this world, and hear of your travels and adventures. The last piece of advice I will impress upon you is that time is short. It wasn’t ten minutes ago where you were learning how to ride a bike, how to fish, how to shoot a gun or what your first beer tasted like. I am hoping I had the strength to tell you this in my last few moments but just in case I don’t, remember that time is short. Life flies by in an instant. Make sure you make the time for those you love. Thank you for making the time to say goodbye. It meant the world to me.

                                                                                         Love,

                                                                                                        Dad

He sat stunned. His father had thought of everything; even the possibility of him making it before he passed. He re-read the letter and he felt like this letter was written with a bit of excitement, the handwriting in this letter was messier than the other, as if he were excitedly writing. “I wonder which letter he wrote first” he questioned as he began to cry once more.

He then remembered his father’s favorite riddle: “What is the free resource that is given to everyone, everyday? You get to spend it anyway you like, but it expires every night and if you’re lucky you get the same amount tomorrow. What am I?