Pedro’s Son: “Father’s Day” without Dad…
I keep thinking about Pedro’s little boy. He must be around seven-years old by now. Father’s Day is next Sunday, and as quiet as that day is at my house, I wonder what it’s like for a boy who never knew his dad.
It has become my non-holiday, Father’s Day. A day to visit Grandma, hit a bike trail and work in the yard…
The stillness doesn’t chafe so much anymore. I minded my dad dying on Election Day in 2000 a lot more than I’m bothered by a quiet Sunday in June. But it’s usually a day of long silences… I don’t have a dad here anymore, and I’m not married to one. It’s a “family day” absent the family since my kids appropriately, spend that special day with their dad.
Pedro lay in an ICU bed two doors down from my grandpa in 2002. Brain cancer. Just like grandpa. Dad had already died as had Mom, less than five months apart and within the previous year. My sisters and I were now focused on walking our grandparents down a grim and unexpected path.
Hospital waiting rooms are a unique social environment. Faces are bare. No one hides. There is a numb respect for those who huddle in the other seats. You learn their details without meaning to. And you hope for them. Pray for them. When the tears come, they are often shared because while you don’t know the one they have lost, you know the shocking explosion of loss itself. Their pain is achingly real because it bumps against your own.
Pedro’s son was a welcome diversion as we fidgeted through another weekend at Florida Hospital. He was just learning to crawl and probably driving his grief-stricken mother to distraction. I don’t remember that now. But I remember Pedro’s mom, the one losing her 26-year old son to a nasty, callous disease. I snapped photos of her beaming grandson as he inched across worn carpeting, so obviously pleased at his expanding world and blessedly unaware of his pending loss. The grandma and I exchanged letters for a short time. She thanked me profusely for the photos I mailed allowing bed-bound Pedro to see his son’s latest milestone. My grandpa had at least witnessed the birth of great-grandchildren before his death that spring. Pedro would not see his own son crawl but in those hospital photos. Capturing those minutes seemed a small but necessary thing.
I wonder about many of the people who have brushed against my life, the brief encounters that fully fill a moment and linger as a lesson learned. So many blessings grew from my dad’s unconditional love. When I think of Pedro’s boy, growing up now without Pedro, I remember words that laid faint hope beneath my great grief at Dad’s passing, “God did not allow your dad to leave you without first preparing the path you will walk without him.”
And every Father’s Day I hope for Pedro’s little son, that he’s walking with strength and finding many unexpected joys along the way…
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Well written, but very sad.
Jean-Luc,
Didn’t mean it to be…
I’ve just always wondered what has happened in the life of that sweet little boy. Life doesn’t always unfold as expected, but different versions have their own unique gifts.
I feel fortunate to have so many wonderful memories of my dad’s unconditional love. I like to think (and hope) that this little boy, adored by his grandma, has enjoyed that same blessing in a different form.
From that last photo, he is indeed adored and will not want for love in his life.
Yes, I often wonder too about the people whose lives we touch or who touch ours. Our memories are made up of moments - good and bad. May we remember the good and let go of the bad.
My dad died a couple of years ago so I share your grief - the pain comes less often but it’s no less sharp.
That was heart breaking.
Suzanne,
I’m sorry about your dad.
Grief eventually takes us to a new “normal.” Never the same as it was, for “loss” changes us, but life can be “good” again… I’m glad for the compassion it grows in us, and I think it can teach one to live with less fear…
Mad William,
Yes, that little boy has lingered in my heart for a long time now.
Heather, what poignant, beautiful post! We spend holidays remembering the fun times with our loved ones who have passed on and that helps take the edge off. Just a joke or two and that brings the loved ones right back in the room with us for a moment.
Hugs, JJ
It’s really a sad story. I know it’s hard to grow up without having a father on your side. It maybe difficult for him at first, but I’m sure as time goes by he will understand and accept the situation of his father.
A very touching story. Heather, you have such a gentle way of sharing your experiences that even your sad stories leave me encouraged and hopeful. As I ponder the upcoming Father’s Day, I can’t help but think about all of the women in your shoes who clearly get to play Mother and Father at times. I submit that you all should be celebrating Father’s Day too. I know,…. clearly not the intent and I by no means intend to disparage the biological and anatomically correct fathers. But let’s give credit where credit is due. So for all the “Single Mother’s” Happy Father’s Day! Enjoy it! And all the Best for Pedro’s son and the far too many Fatherless children in this world.!
JJ,
I love spinning through memories with my sisters! Some memories overlap and some reveal new places…
Land Projects UK,
He was such an appealing child; I have to think that he will find the mentors he needs to become who he is meant to be…
I depend upon “happy endings!”
Thank you Intrepid.
Sweet and encouraging words… Ultimately, it’s just about loving our kids, isn’t it?
excellent writing heather,
Thanks Todd. Hope your Father’s Day was wonderful!