A Run with Dad

I had told my dad I loved him at least a dozen times without ever meaning it. It seemed easier to do it this way after meeting him this time last year. The alternative was much messier. I know, the easier path is not often the right one. How else could I get off my chest over two decades of longing without exploding in anger? But now was different, I had no choice. We were stuck together. Meeting up was my idea, going for a run was his.

           “Ready?” He asked, stretching his leg on the front yard fence.

           “Just the lace, I gotta…”

           He nodded and looked off into the distance.

           I could see it was hard for him as well. But I wasn’t looking for him to build me a time machine. I just wanted an apology. Not even for me, just for my mom. She had to raise us – me and my sis – without so much as a letter from him. I wanted to ask him why but I know she wouldn’t want us to fight. Mistakes were made and blame wouldn’t solve it.

           “Let’s go,” he said after finishing up. He flashed me a grin and walked past.

           He was surprisingly fit for a retiree and only slightly shorter than me. Whenever mom mentioned him, she would always say how I looked exactly like him. Meeting him now as a future grandfather to my kids I saw very little resemblance. His greying hair versus my greasy jet-black mop. My full-grown beard versus his perpetually clean-shaved appearance. I wondered, as we jogged along, if my eyes would also become sunken with bags under them when I got old. He didn’t say a word, just kept a good jogging pace. After all these years of being retired from the army his muscle memory was still sharp as ever. Th silence, I’m sure, was perfect for him, but not for me.

           “You know, we found out it’s going to be a boy.”

           “Oh, well I’m sure you’ll make a great father.”

           I searched for a diplomatic response but none came. I imagined there was a part of him that was proud of this but just didn’t know what to say. We finally arrived at the park.

           “This it?” I asked.

           He made a noise of affirmation and continued to stare off into the distance.

           “Shall we?”

           “Your mother and I used to come here on runs when we were young.”

           “Oh, and how was it then?”

           “Fine,” he said, finally looking me in the eyes. “Much simpler times.”

           He ran his hand along the front gate.

           “She never told you about it?”

           “No, she didn’t. I never really asked about you guys, she seemed stressed out as it was.”

           “You weren’t curious to know?”

           Of course, I was you fool, I thought. What young boy wouldn’t be? It’s not like I could just get up and look for you as a little boy living with his sister and our single mother. I hated him at that moment.

           “I kinda kept it all in.”

           He nodded and walked through the gate into the park. We both began to run but this time he picked up the pace.

           “There’s a great little area right over there away from the riverside. Far fewer people.”

           He lived alone, had no friends and barely spoke a word. It didn’t surprise me that he wanted to go to the least populated part of the park to jog.

           “Sounds good,” I said.

           He turned left and we ran towards his preferred area of the park. The trees here were denser and shade covered our path. He slowed down.

           “You know, I really did want to contact you,” he said. “I thought about it a lot.”

           “Oh, so why didn’t you?” I asked.

           “Because,” he cleared his throat. “I was unsure of how you felt after your mother and I broke up.”

           “You couldn’t even call just to ask?”

           “When we fought before the breakup, she made it crystal clear to me she didn’t want me calling.” He looked over at me and made eye contact. “But I really wanted to.”

           It was hard to believe him saying this now after I was already grown-up and raised by my mother. On the other hand, I can’t imagine a former army officer would be this duplicitous to his own son. He slowed down to a brisk walk.

           “I never meant to hurt you, which is partly the reason I didn’t contact you.”

           “You don’t think that lack of contact made it that much worse?”

           “My entire life I’ve been a soldier. There are rules for every part of your life when you’re in the service. When to get up, how to dress, where to go at each moment.” He came to a full stop and turned around to face me. “There are also rules for dealing with others: salute this guy, order around this guy.” He bent his head down at the ground and took a deep breath. “I joined when I was young, so this way of dealing with people became natural to me. I didn’t know any other way.”

           I was angry with him and what he had done and failed to do throughout my life. But at that moment I was also angry with myself. I never considered that he might suffering in some way as well. He bent down, hands on his knees.

           “Just a little tired, give me a sec.”

           I know he wasn’t but chose to say nothing. He continued to explain, bent over there by the side of the path.

           “When your sister was born, we were fine. But as the years passed, your mother couldn’t tolerate the fact that I had to spend so much time and energy at work.” He stood back up with red in his eyes. I looked away. “By the time you were born, it was a fight every other day.” His breathing became heavy. If he didn’t have years of army conditioning, I would have been concerned he was having a heart attack. Or maybe that was me having a heart attack right then and there.

           “I’m sure she forgives you.”

           “You think?”

           The dams in eyes looked as if they were about to burst.

           “I know.” I reached out a hand to pat him on his shoulder. It was the most affection I had shown since arriving here several days ago.

           “Thank you, son.” The words exited his lips barely audible.

           “How about your sister?”

           “She would have forgiven you as well. I know she was happy despite the difficulty.”

           “I’m glad to hear that.”

           “She was planning on moving in with her fiancé before the accident. But I know for a fact she never held any grudges against you.”

           He stood up and awkwardly held out his arms for a hug. I moved in and two decades of emotion spilled out onto his shirt sleeve.

           “I just wish mom was here with us, so I could ask her about all those wasted years that I didn’t ask.

           “You can ask her yourself in person when we get back. Your sister, too”

           I said nothing but I knew he understood the grudge I carried all these years. He knew how to deal with people better than he gave himself credit for.

           “We can put them to rest together, son.”