Sweet and Tender Moments

When all the world seems out of control and the tunnel of darkness appears never ending, remember that those sweet and tender moments are lingering close by waiting to be experienced and felt.

I was not having a great day. Oh heck, I was not having a great week or month even! I pannicked just a bit as I watched the temperature gauge in my car steadily and quickly rise. It just could not get any hotter, the gauge was well past hot into “ready to fry your engine” territory!

Ok! I quickly got to a garage after stopping to allow my engine to cool first, and I got a temporary fix for my cracked radiator. Now I could continue to my second job and back to the garage where I would then leave my wounded vehicle. I haggled a price for a new radiator and called work to negogiate a ride home! Now I needed to find a way back to work the next day and had success! Oh, one more hurtle to get over and I would be back in business!

I needed someone to pick me up at work and drive me in the opposite direction to the garage where my car would be ready and waiting … with a new radiator … so I could then proceed to my second job again! But to my dismay, I was not having any luck finding someone. Finally, after a lot of handwretching, I relunctantly called my oldest brother, Jim. It would be out of his way to come get me and I really hated to ask for help to begin with! But … he was willing to make the trip for his seemingly helpless youngest sister! Don’t you just love relatives! :)

There are times in ones life when you wish you could freeze frame, stop for a moment more to savor the sweet essence of a few moments in time. So cherished are these snippits that you do not want them to end.

Jim was waiting for me when I walked out the glass doors of the North Point office complex. A big smile was on his face, probably to gloat I thought and make me “kiss his feet” for going out of his way to drive poor ole me to my next destination. I hopped into the car and immediately, to head off any sarcasim, thanked Jim for being a dear brother. To my delight, he was sincerely happy that he could help me out … then he started a conversation with me that I would feel for our entire time together and long afterwards.

“I always felt cheated,” he said, “that we never really had a Dad.”

What was he talking about? We had a Dad, a wonderful Dad. What a shame that Jim didn’t feel close to him, I thought. But wait, I know they were close. All those years hunting together in the Pocono Mountains, being together out in the woods, Dad and his boys. And spending the long weekends in a hunter’s cabin playing Grisley Adams! Surely, that was their bonding time every year. And believe me, I was jealous! Why was there never any father and daughter outings alone with Dad?

“Think about it,” he continued, “he died when we were still young. What were you, Judi, in your early twenties? And when we were little, we would come home from school and he would already be at work working the second shift at Superior Tube. And sometimes on Saturdays too. The only time we really had with him was Sunday.”

“Oh, yeah,” I remembered. “Those sunday drives “around the block”. Do you remember them, Jim? Mom would pack a picnic lunch and we would end up at Bushkill Falls or someplace similiar. Oh, how Dad, loved those Sunday drives! And don’t forget those rides at night spotting deer.” I had to chuckle for the memory that was visible in my mind was when Dad had to swerve out of the way so as not to get hit by the car coming the other way because we were on the wrong side of the road! But our headlights were shining on the largest buck I had ever seen! Mom screamed telling Dad that he was certainly going to kill us all for the sake of spotting of deer!

“Yeah, I remember. But that was not enough time to really get to know him, Judi. We were cheated. But I do know some things about him even from the short time I had with him.” Jim’s eyes were getting misty. He had a lot more to say and I could not wait to hear. Did Jim know how much I loved our Dad? How very much? Tell me Jim, what do you know?

“He was a good man, Judi. I mean he was the best of men. It was Dad that held the family together, not Mom. He was the soul of that home. Do you know what he went through with us kids?”

I looked directly at Jim, a bit proud and a little stunned. A tear rolled down one cheek on Jim’s face. My stomach flutterly. Oh my, I just want to stop the car and hug this man … my brother! He is about to give me such a gift.

“I still miss him, Jim. After thirty some years, I still miss him.” My own voice started to crack and I choked back tears. Not now I told myself. I want to hear more. Let him speak.

Jim spoke about pains and anquish of a father who felt his children’s struggle through many childhood horrors, big and small. He suffered every wound, every heart break and every failure of his six children. But his responsibilities did not stop there. He was the backbone and support for his wife’s mother and sister who he took into his home and made his home a home for them also. Jim reminded me about the tough decisions Dad had to make and the heartbreak of having to admit that one of his own needed help that he could not provide. Jim spoke about hard times when Dad had to sit in a picket line because the company where he worked had decided to go on strike! Our Dad had worked his way up to foreman at the only company that he had worked at all his life.

Being the oldest member of his own family, Dad took responsibility of his mom when his own dad was unkind to her stating that HE would now take care of his mother and that his father would not be allowed to ever touch her again. My Dad watched as his Mom died and his father followed only a few months later. Jim said that Dad told him that his own father died of heartbreak due to the suffering he had caused the woman that he truly loved.

Jim pulled into the garage just as my car was being pulled out of the garage bay. It was ready for me to pick up. But I did not want to leave this conversation. I did not want to go to my next job. I wanted to stay with Jim and hold onto those memories with him. I had so much I wanted to tell him about my own experiences with the man he thought we had not gotten to know. It occured to me that maybe we knew our Dad even better than most who have many decades with their father! Our father’s heart was an open book to us and so we knew him … from the inside.

Suddenly all the problems and difficulties that I was experiencing that week melted away. Family was important to me, Jim was important to me.

“I wish we could have dinner together and talk some more,” I told Jim. He agreed.

“But that’s life, Judi,” he said. “And Dad did it right, didn’t he? We were lucky to have him for the time that we did.”

Jim and I said our goodbyes and promised to get together again soon. Somehow I knew though, that the moment would soon be gone and I might not be able to get it back again … not like that. There are times in ones life that only come once but they stay with you forever! This was one of those times.

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October 1st … today is the day that a great and wonderful man was born in 1914. A man who was loved deeply by many and respected by all. He cursed like a sailor … maybe because he was one. He sailed into the pacific and fought in World War II. He loved his family and especially loved all children. He lovingly planted and tended his vegetable garden. His affection for his wife was obvious. His dessert at every meal was a kiss from his beloved. He always said that he would feed his family first and pay the bills second. He appeared to be racist yet his best friend was the black man who he gave a ride to work every day of the week. He was not a religious man and did not attend church but made regular visits to the minister’s home just to chat with him. He was stern and fair with a soft underbelly. I swore I was his favorite among his three daughters but knowing Dad, he probably made us all feel that way. But I do know that there was something special between me and him. I was the one who carried the Native spirit with me that he tried so earnestly to instill in us. It was my Dad’s voice I heard late one night on a hill in Washington State when I was singing to the moon! He had been in spirit 28 years by then. I did not realize at first it was him, I thought it was one of the apprentices coming to get me telling me it was time to come back to the campfire. He called me Judi then. But then he gave me a new name and told me to be proud of who I am.

Dad, I know that you are with me still and I want to say that I love you more than all the stars in the sky! I will ride with you into the milkyway tonight. Happy Birthday, Dad.

Judi Cossaboon-Taylor (sms … you know who I am) 2009

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birth, blood, brother, dad, family, father, life, love, pagal, values and writing