“It’s time to go…”
Those words kept ringing in his ear. It was years ago that she had spoken this to him, but they pressed heavy to this day. He had wished the pain away, but it was as fresh as if it happened yesterday. He reasoned with himself and justified his actions once again until his stomach was in knots and he got another splitting headache. And so he did what he always did when these thoughts hit him in the evening. He went to bed.
Another early morning and another hot cup of coffee. He sat with a dazing stare, eyes fixed on the fire. The flames flickered methodically back and forth. Their glow sending shadow-patterns dancing across the room. It was dark outside and the rest of the house was cold. But he was warm–at least the side facing the fire.
His mind raced while he blankly stared. “How many times will I rehearse what happened?”, he said to himself.
Without a second thought, he had brought on another round of self-condemnation. “At least this is one thing I can focus on”, he mused.
The morning hues began to lift through the trees and the birds slowly and rhythmically began their early chirps. Without knowing it, he had sat there, Bible open, not a page read, and his fire burning down to coals. “Why is this so hard?”, he thought. “Why is this so hard?”, he managed to speak out-loud.
Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder. A shot of electricity rushed up from his stomach to his throat. “Did she hear me?”, he thought. “What is she going to think?”
“Good morning,” she kindly and quietly said.
“Good morning,” he sheepishly replied.
“Are you thinking about it again?”, she gently asked.
“Yes.”, he quickly replied as he looked outside.
By this time, the sun had peaked over over the horizon, and its rays were gleaming through the trees. “What a beautiful thing”, he thought to himself. “What a beautiful sight”, he said to his wife.
He looked up at her, smiling. He could see the love in her face as she smiled back. The creases around her lips widened and her tired eyes were full of love as the tender skin crinkled with her smile. She was beautiful. The years had treated her well, and the mild ridges around her eyes had only accentuated the wisdom that she possessed. Her hair lay over her shoulders and was graying. She had lived a full life. They had lived most of it together.
She pulled up a chair, sat down, and got comfortable.
He knew what she was doing. She was there with him. She was going to always be there with him. No matter what had happened or will happen, their love would remain. And so, he looked over at her and asked, “Do you think I should reach out to her?”
She sat there quietly. Looking at the fire–now flickering coals. At this point, her hands were in her lap and her shoulders were slightly bent forward. Her robe looked comfortable on her, and her feet cozily set in slippers shuffled only slightly as she turned to face him. “Yes”, she said. “I think it’s time.”
He slowly turned away from her and looked again into the fire. His stomach knotted up, and he realized that after all these years they were going to deal with the one thing that had brought so much heart-ache and pain into their lives. The thought of what had transpired over the years immediately brought tears to his eyes. The sharp pain in his throat returned. He tried to choke it down, but it was too strong. He heard his wife’s breathing cadence pick up and he looked at her. She had put her head in her hands and was now leaning over. Her shoulders shook slowly at first, and then more and more.
She was quiet as she cried, but she was clearly hurting. She knew that this was probably going to be one of the last if not the last attempts at restoration, and she agonized at the thought of it not coming to pass.
Their daughter was full of life. She was born with a smile and an opinion. And she wasn’t bashful in sharing that opinion, which got her in arguments with her brothers and sisters and in to correction with her parents often. She had to grow up quickly as the first-born of five. Her dad worked every weekday, which meant that he was gone by the time she woke up and returned in time for dinner most days. He was a loving father, but just wasn’t around. Her mom was good to her, and treated her with dignity, but there was something in their relationship that she couldn’t quite understand.
As childhood turned into to young adulthood she began to venture out more and more. She landed herself in a few bad spots, and her parents were always there to rescue her and to show her a better way. However, it only led to her despising them more. She didn’t know why it was this way, but it was something she felt. She didn’t want to be rescued. She didn’t want to be helped by her parents. They were always doing the right things–taking her to church, reading the Bible as a family–and trying to get her in line, but it just didn’t sit well with her. And so, she began to wander more and more.
Looking back, it was clear that her pattern of life was headed in this direction. When she was just a child, she was usually mean to her younger siblings. They seemed to always annoy her, and she even went so far as to push her younger sister down and make her eat dirt. When she was corrected, she said, “I was only teaching her, like you.” These type of experiences and actions continued more and more until she finally had all but withdrawn herself to her room, to her phone, and to her boyfriend. Rarely did she eat dinner with the family, and she would never pray if asked. Her eyes would dart in different directions when her dad tried to speak with her, and by the time she was about to leave the house she wouldn’t even look her mom in the face.
She had grown beyond her parents’ worst fears for their children, and her choices continued to reveal that she would remove herself from even their association. She was bitter. She despised religion. She scoffed at their so-called Christianity, and she hated herself.
Her solace was boys and being alone. If she could have only find a way out sooner, she would have left long ago. But, she didn’t have the money and she didn’t have the car. But she did have her boyfriend. And, he was as bad if not worse than her. Her family didn’t know what she saw in him, and they would let her know that until she had finally had enough.
The hot afternoon had turned into a cool evening when he came home from work. His wife was outside pacing around their driveway. She was clearly distraught and tears were flowing down her cheeks. He quickly stepped out of the car and inquisitively asked what was going on.
“She left. She’s gone. She left with him”, she said. “What?”, he replied. “What do you mean she left with him?” His wife said, “He came over, she had already packed her suitcase, and she loaded it up in his car and left.”
His head began to spin. Rage filled his chest. He felt betrayed. He wasn’t going to stand for this. “How long ago did they leave?”, he asked. “Just a few minutes,” she answered. And so, he jumped back in his car, asked his wife where they were headed and sped off.
He didn’t know, but he thought he might catch them before they got too far. She had been warning them that she would do something like this. Previously, she had made comments like, “What if me and my boyfriend just head out to the west coast?” He knew that she was brave, but he didn’t think it would actually happen. So he sped down the road to a spot they would likely be. It was a spot where they had been caught and rebuked. It was a house where her other friends had congregated. Perhaps they were going to be there saying bye to them before they left for wherever they were going. And so he drove–focused on the road ahead–to get there hoping he would catch them before they left.
As he approached the house he could see his car. They were hugging their friends and stepping back toward his vehicle. Like a shot fired from a rifle, he pulled in behind them and slammed on the breaks. Dust kicked up on the gravel drive as he jumped out of the car to face his daughter, her boyfriend, and their friends.
He looked first at his daughter. Her eyes were wide as saucers. The boyfriend looked at him and then at her. He was stunned. She was standing there with her mouth gaping open. Her friends were all looking at her and then back at her dad.
Time froze. He was still. He couldn’t stop the rage. The betrayal was too much. He looked over at her boyfriend and spoke words too harsh to repeat. He looked at her and filleted her in front of everyone. He began with her decisions from the time she was little to now. Her eyes changed as he continued. Her head tilted to the side and her shoulders set back. Her lips were now closed and thinning. Her eyes narrow. She was done with this conversation and let her dad know it.
Brashly, she turned away from her dad, looked at her boyfriend, and said, “It’s time to go.”
They got in his car and drove the opposite way out of the drive. Her father watched as they drove away. The friends still standing there in shock. He got in his car, hit the steering wheel and angrily drove back home.
He was broken. He knew he should have controlled himself. He knew he should have gone about things differently, but it was too late. The damage had been done and his daughter was gone.
The drive home was full of feelings of regret, sorrow, anger, and betrayal. “How could she?”, he thought.
As he drove him, he saw his wife hopeful and slowly trotting toward his car as he pulled in and came to a stop. He hit the steering wheel again. He looked up at his wife, they made eye contact through his windshield, and they both knew things would never be the same.
The early morning had turned late morning and they both knew that they needed to eat breakfast and greet their youngest child (the only one now at home, as all the others had graduated and were off in either work or college) before he headed off to practice and films.
He stood up, looked at his wife in the eyes, smiled, and gently kissed her on top of her head.
Today was going to be a good day. He just felt it deep inside of him. Even though a few years had passed with only a few conversations with his daughter–who was now a single mom–he felt like this time was going to be different.
And so, he texted his daughter–asking for permission to meet up with her–and was given the go-ahead.
He took a deep breath and headed into the kitchen. After he and his wife had eaten breakfast together, wished their son the best at his practice, he headed toward the door. Looking back at his wife, he said, “Pray.” She nodded. Slowly, he opened the door, stepped outside, got into the same car that had taken him to that fateful day when they left, and turned his wheels west. It was going to be a long drive, but it was worth it. She was worth it. He smiled at his wife as he pulled down the road. She was standing outside arms crossed and lifting her hand to wave as he drove off. She was hopeful now. She hoped the best, and she prayed.
Stay tuned for Part 2 of The Waywardness of Life…
In the meantime, check out the start of Chapter 7 in the GAP Book.
— November 17, 2021