Moonshine's Little Star Girl

The lights of the starry night sky blurred as a single tear ran down from each of my eyes. "I can't do it, Jim. I can't do it alone," I whispered, my face still turned towards the sky.

"Yes you can, my love. You have to. You need to do this to find your peace, to get some closure," my husband replied, holding my hand as we sat outside on this cool summer night.

My stomach was in knots, and had been that way since I had gotten the first call three weeks ago. No one expects a call like that to come while you’re out at the grocery store, but then again, when should you expect the call to hear that your estranged father was dying? When I heard my brother calmly say that dad was in hospice and it wouldn't be long now, I continued pushing my cart down the aisle, but I had lost sight of what I was looking for. I had lost sight of mostly everything at that moment except making sure my cart remained on the right side of the aisle. 

“So, are you going to come home?” my brother asked, hints of worry and hesitation in his words. Jason, the younger of the two of us, had always been somewhat intimidated by me. I was the bossy, loudmouth older sister who always knew how to get her way and was always used to doing things my way. I was strong willed and independent, a real “go-getter” people would say. Sadly, that wasn’t me anymore. While Jason knew that I wasn’t the girl I used to be, sometimes I think our history got the best of him and he would approach me with the same hesitation he would use when we were kids. Even now as adults, he just didn't know how I would react to something I didn’t want to do.  

“No,” was my solitary reply. The word had made me stop suddenly and it took me a moment to realize that I was still aimlessly wandering around the store. “No,” I said again, “I think it’s best if not. I’ve said my ‘goodbyes’ a long time ago.”

“Kate,” he said, “Please. It’s been so long, and he specifically asked -”

“I don’t care what he asked for,” I said, a little bit louder than I had expected. “I’m not going to be some dying man’s last wish because he feels badly about screwing up and ruining our lives.” I could feel my pulse start to quicken and the beginnings of the anxious flutters in my chest that happened any time my father was mentioned.  

“Kate, this may not be what he needs in order to die, but it may very well be what you need in order to live.” 

This time it was his words that had halted me. I considered what he had said for a moment and mused on how while I used words to benefit me, my brother used his to help the person he was talking with. Pure innocence became that boy, I thought as memories of our childhood started to creep in...but hate and haste quickly took over and I replied again, “Nope, my mind is made up. I’ve got to go. I’m sorry for your loss, and I’ll see you at Thanksgiving. Love you, goodbye.” I hung up the phone and stood staring into my half filled cart. I didn’t worry about Jason’s feelings for me hanging up on him, I had done it countless times, but there was a stirring in my chest that got me worried - it almost felt like I was going to cry. If there was one thing that had remained unchanged in me, it was that I was not a crier. I knew how to show emotion when appropriate, but nary a tear was to be seen coming from my eyes, no matter how happy or sad the occasion. After all, I had been told in my youth that I was the spitting image of my father, and that man didn’t even shed a tear when my mother walked out on him. My fury at that man’s gall got the best of me and I turned and walked out of the store, leaving my cart right where I had stopped. 

Jim was sympathetic when later that night I finally told him what happened in the store, but he knew better than to say something that would contradict my feelings. He had been my backbone through the roughest time in my life and knew me better than anyone, even myself sometimes. Jim understood what had caused the seismic shift in myself, he had even witnessed it, being that we were high school sweethearts and we had not known love from anyone else but each other. Being with someone for as long as we had, you start to grow and evolve together so that at times, it seems like you actually can read the other person’s mind. For mine and Jim’s case, he knew exactly how to tread when matters of my father were involved. As for tonight, simply sitting next to me was the best way to calm me. 

“Did Jason say what it was your father was dying from?’ Jim asked.

“I don’t know,” I said, “I don’t think so, but he could have. I just kind of checked out after he first said it.” Had Jason said anything about my father’s deterioration? I figured it had to be some sort of disease he was dealing with since they knew he was dying and had taken the channels to move him into hospice, but Jason never said anything specific from what I recalled of our brief conversation. “All I know is I’ll probably expect one more call from Jason in a few weeks to let me know my father is dead then I won’t have to worry about him anymore,” I stated emphatically, signaling that I was done with this conversation.  

“Yeah, I guess that’s about it then,” Jim said. He kissed me on the cheek and pulled me up from the couch. “Come on, time for bed. You’ve had a long night and a deep sleep will do you good.” But for all that Jim knew about me and our life together, what he didn’t know was that I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in 15 years. 

Jason called again a week later, but I was still feeling bitter and let it go to voicemail. While I wasn’t mad at Jason specifically - after all, he was just biding my father’s work as he’s done for most of his life - I couldn’t help but feel the familiar twinge of betrayal that crept into my heart whenever Jason brought up our father over the years. Jason should have sided with me when everything went down! Jason should have never forgiven him after what he did to our family! But he did. And now Jason was here trying to make me give that same forgiveness that he so easily bestowed upon our father. But that was not going to happen with me. Not while the memory of that time was clearer in my mind than any other memory I have of that pitiful excuse of a man.

The last straw came the following week when Jason called Jim. I had never known my brother to be so persistent, usually that was my job, but maybe he too had undergone some sort of change in his life because of what happened. I had come home from work to find Jim sitting quietly on the couch. Typically, he would have had dinner started by now, but I knew from the look on his face that Jim had been sitting there for more than a while. “Hey hun, what’s going on?” I asked as I made my way over to him. As I sat on the plush arm of the couch, Jim looked up at me, his face a combination of worry and surprise. 

“Um, Jason called me a little while ago,” he said. I could tell where the surprised look had come from - Jim and Jason had never really been that close and rarely exchanged phone calls. Even though they were only three years apart, the events of that time had never really given them a chance to bond like they should have, and my retreat from my hometown had only made the distance wider between them. 

“So, what did he say?” I asked, fear slowly settling in. 

“Well, he asked me to try and persuade you to go and see you father,” he replied softly, still looking up at me from where he sat. I never realized how quiet the house could get when no one had anything left to say. So we sat there, silently, for how long I cannot be sure. I was thinking, oh so many wonderful and dreadful things, but none of my thoughts formed any kind of coherence and I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. It was only when Jim spoke again that I was brought back to the present. “Kate, I think you should go.” 

“Why?” I exclaimed, as I jumped off of the arm of the couch. “Why are you siding with him all of a sudden?” I was furious. Jim had always had my back, and now he was turning his own on me. For whom, my father? My brother? The fact that he would agree with either of them repulsed me and I couldn't stand to look at him. I ran into the bathroom and slammed the door, both relieved and saddened when Jim didn’t follow me. 

We had spent a long time talking later that night once Jim had finally come to my rescue and I finally calmed down. I had to admit to myself the fact that my brother had now called three times spurred a bit of curiosity in me to see just what had happened to my father. Fifteen long years had passed since I last laid eyes on him. Maybe all of these mixed up emotions I had been experiencing over the years was indeed the result of a lack of true closure. I had definitely spoken my mind to my father all those years ago, but had he heard me? Maybe now after he had time to live with what he’d done, my words would carry more meaning, and hit him right where I wanted them to. I decided that night I would leave the following morning to go back to the place where my dreams had failed me - my hometown. 

I was three hours into the six hour car drive when I passed a sign for the “Olde Country Ranch Campgrounds.” A smile flickered across my face as I recalled the one or two occasions my family had spent a long weekend there. RV’ing had been our great family experience, but camping had really been mine and my father’s “thing.” We loved cuddling up next to each other in our sleeping bags and looking up towards the sky. My father would make up stories about the gods in the constellations and I would be mesmerized by the voices he would use and the songs he sang to accompany his tales. This time spent with him was what I always looked forward to, every camping trip, every summer. I felt safe, I felt important, I felt loved. But then he had to ruin it. He ruined it all. Because of his selfishness, he ruined our lives, I thought. As the long highway stretched ahead of me and I crossed into my old home state, all of the awful memories overpowered the one that had just brought me joy...

I had just gotten home from a date with Jim. It was freezing out, but he had wanted to take me ice skating at the new rink they had built in town. I had had a wonderful time and couldn’t wait to share with my dad how they had made the ceiling of the rink look like the twinkling stars outside. But when I walked into the kitchen, I heard my parents fighting, again. While there had been more and more tension and fights going on, this time it was louder and angrier. I held back and listened for a moment. Words floated past me - Affair. Other woman. A child? I couldn’t believe what I had heard. Even at 16, I had heard enough and was bold enough to confront what I heard. I stormed into the kitchen and found my mother sobbing. My father sat stone cold at the kitchen table. I yelled at him that he was a monster and demanded to know how he could do this to us. We had been the perfect family in my eyes, and my father had been my hero, as any typical little girl would see their dad. I put my arm around my mom, but she shook it off, too hurt to appreciate any kind of compassion. It was then that she stormed out of the house, got in her car and drove off. I walked up to my dad and slapped him in the face, calling him a disgusting scumbag as the tears rolled down my face. I told him he was no father of mine. I then stormed out of the house and walked the two miles to Jim’s. It wasn’t until the morning that I had heard the news. A car was found floating in Brewer’s Pond. A woman was found too, trapped inside the car, frozen to death. The woman had been my mother. The news had said that she was driving too fast and skidded on the ice, crashing through the guardrail, through the trees, and into the water. Whether her death was from impact, the frigid cold, or a broken heart, I’d never wanted to know. All I knew was that my mother was gone, my family was dead, and it was all my father’s fault. The next day, I moved out of my childhood home and into Jim’s basement, never looking at or speaking to my father again. 

I pulled up to the hospice facility and barely made it into a parking space, my hands were shaking so badly. I closed my eyes and tried to mentally prepare for laying eyes on my father for the first time in 15 years. Would I recognize him? Would he be awake? Would he know who I was? I had called Jason on my way there and finally asked him what happened to our father. He had lost his battle to brain cancer. It had been a long, hard fight Jason said. Good, I thought, he deserves it. 

After checking in at the nurse’s station, it was only a few moments before I found myself outside his door. Do I knock? Announce my arrival in some way? Would it make a difference? I knew these were minute worries at the moment, but I was desperately trying to stall entering that room. I was terrified I’d be filled with the same feelings I had that cold December night so long ago. Mustering up as much as the inner strength I had carried for myself during the first half of my life, I turned the knob and walked in the room. 

It was quiet and dimly lit, with just a small table lamp providing the illumination. I gasped once I laid my eyes on him. My father, who had always had an imposing stature and impeccable grooming, had grown frail and unkempt. He had lost a solid hundred pounds and his face was so sunken in he looked like he had already crossed over. This prompted me to inch closer to him just to see if he was in fact breathing. Some sort of energy in the room must have shifted with my presence for when I came closer to him, his eyes finally opened. 

“Kate,” he rasped, barely audible through the beeping of machines. 

“Hello.” I replied back. 

“Come here,” he spoke, and as did, he lifted his hand, struggling to raise it to where mine was resting on the bedside rail. His fingers brushed mine and I felt so incredibly unstable from the touch that I had to sit down. Now that I was almost eye to eye with him, he spoke again. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.” The words I had been waiting for for 15 years had finally been spoken. 

“Why, daddy, why?” I asked, and the strange feeling began to well in my chest again. 

“I hurt you,” he strained to say, “I broke us. But I've never stopped loving you, my Star Girl.” With the mention of his pet name for me, the feeling in my chest overcame me and the tears rolled down my cheeks, slowly at first, then uncontrollably. 

“Thank you Moonshine,” I let out through my sobs. “I love you too.” He closed his eyes after that, but continued his shallow breathing. Our hands had become clasped together at this point, but oddly enough, I was not ready to go yet. I pulled the chair closer, my hand still holding onto his, and leaned my head back in the chair. I found myself drifting off to sleep and dreaming of the most beautiful memory I had…

The stars daddy! Look at them! They’re twinkling! They’re twinkling for us! 

Yes, my girl, they’re shining all right, lighting up the sky like you light up my life.

And the moon! It's shiny too!  

Dang right it is. How about from now on, you be my Star Girl and I can be your Moonshine, does that sound good? 

That sounds great daddy!

Good my little Star Girl, I love you so much.

I love you too Moonshine!