My Almost Dad
"If not for anger, what happiness might have been?"
I don't know how long the box with brown wrapping paper on it had been sitting on his grave. Who would put it there? And why?
Coming here wasn't easy. I didn't even go to his funeral. I was too angry. When I needed him as a kid he was nowhere around. He was either in prison or off living life somewhere. So, Mom raised me by herself.
I tracked him down when I turned fifteen though. I needed to see him face to face. And I wanted him to know how angry I was. That was quite a day. He just stood there while I ranted, looking down at his boots. When I stopped, he looked up, shrugged and said, "I guess I had that coming." Then he turned and walked back in his house.
I saw him off and on over the next few years but I'd end up getting pissed and go off on him. He never said a whole lot so I never really got much out of our meetings. The last time was five months ago right before my senior graduation. After my melt down that time he said, "You know kid, this isn't really working for us. I don't think we need to do this anymore." And he walked away. I remember my last words to him was screaming, "Go ahead. Walk away. That's what you do best. I don't need you goddammit it! I never did. I'm gonna be just fine without you!" He never turned around. He just kept walking and threw one hand up like he was waving goodbye. Or maybe like it was a wave that meant 'got it loud and clear.' I'll never know because ten weeks later he was dead.
It was a bright sunny day when he took his vintage Harley he rebuilt out on a test drive. But coming home late that night it started raining pretty hard. A coyote ran in front of him according to witnesses. He swerved, lost control and crossed lanes in front of an oncoming car. The car driver lived. Dad didn't. Funny. It wasn't until I heard the news of his death that I ever even referred to him as Dad. I guess refusing to call him that was my way of punishing him.
Looking at the package more closely, I see the paper is weathered so it has been here for a while. The handwriting covered in clear packing tape still legibly read "To Robin Johnson". It was for me.
With trembling hands, I tore it open. Inside was a large waterproof bag full of cards, a photo album and a handwritten letter to me. I started with it.
"Robin, I asked a friend to get this to you at my funeral if I still had all this stuff when I died. You're always so angry with me it's not looking too much like I'll ever really get a chance to give this stuff to you myself. If you don't come to my funeral, then I asked my friend to leave it on my grave. To be honest, I'm not sure you will go there either. But I don't want someone chasing you and intruding into your life to give it to you. Only if you come seeking me in some way were you to have it. If it's still on my grave after six months, I asked my friend to take it and burn it all. I really hope you get it though.
So, if you're reading this - cheesy right? - you must have come either to my funeral or to my grave before six months.
With so many years not shared, where do I even start? I'm sure you think as an absent parent I didn't love you. I mean, what man that loves his child doesn't come around, right? I promise you that my absence was out of love for you. Not because I didn't care.
Some relationships don't work. They just don't. And no amount of pushing it to work can make it happen. And when two people can't get along without causing hell and misery to their child, then something has to give. So I gave and walked away. I don't mean this as talking crap about your Momma cause she was a good woman. Truly the best thing that ever happened to me. That sounds like a load of bullshit said by every loser don't it?
I hurt your Momma a lot. I was young, wild, irresponsible. I admit it. I drank too much. Way too much. And I cheated. I wish I could say it was just one time which would still be one time too many. But I was a bastard. Every time I got drunk, I woke up in some other woman's bed. Isn't this a hell of a thing to confess to your child? Truthfully, I don't know if I would have had the courage to be this honest in person. I don't have excuses. I just don't. I was an asshole and that's all there is to it.
I loved you though. I truly did. You were sunshine and rainbows in my eyes. Out of all the things I did wrong in my life, you were the one thing I did right. I can imagine you screaming at me right now that just being a sperm donor doesn't count. That I don't have the right to make any claims regarding you because I didn't do anything to raise you or look after you. I was out of your life by nine months old. So, I guess you wouldn't be wrong.
But as much as it angers you that I was never there in your life, it really was a good thing. I wasted so much of my life on all the wrong things before I climbed to high ground. Alcohol, drugs, petty crime, trashy women. I wouldn't have brought anything good to your childhood. I would have been a horrible influence. I know you're thinking that just adds to what you've told me time and again, that you didn't matter enough to me. But you did. You really did.
Robin, I'm so sorry I wasn't the father you wanted me to be. And I'm even more sorry that I never had a chance to show you what kind of father I could be if we had had the time. I hope you can set your anger aside though and accept some things from me. I can't change the past. But I can make your life going forward a little easier. I suppose if I had tried to do this while I was alive it probably would have just pissed you off and you would have accused me of trying to buy your love. Maybe in your place I'd feel that way too.
In this package, there should be a card for every birthday you had until the time of my death. I sent them to you but your Momma returned them. I get why she did it. When I wrote this letter, there were 25 cards. If this box gets to you at my grave, then my lawyer has the bonds that were included in the cards. His contact info is in here so you can follow up with him. The first ten each had a bond for $2,500. So that's $25,000. The next ten each had $5,000 bonds in them. So that's another $50,000. The last 5 had $10,000 bonds in each for a total of $50,000 making a grand total of $125,000. I bought bonds so they would be yours and only yours. I'm sure you can find some thing to spend them on.
My lawyer also has keys to a house for you. I promise it's a good house in a good neighborhood. I bought one big enough for whatever family you might have someday. It's completely paid for. You can sell it if you choose. I also set it up with a friend who owns a car dealership for you to pick out whatever vehicle you want up to $50,000. Any cash left over after the purchase is yours to do with whatever you want.
There is a college fund, too, if you decide you want to go. If you don't go before age 40, then it will cash out to you also.
Those were all supposed to be your high school graduation presents but now is better than never right?
I'm sure all this is a shock. I know I didn't look much like the type that would have this kind of money. Oddly enough, the one thing I was good at was making money. And I was determined not to piss it all away. I wanted you to be taken care of. So I did have my priorities right even if it didn't look like it.
The album is just sentimental stuff. It has every news clipping covering your sports events and competition winnings. It also has all your school pictures and other pictures of you growing up. My Mom would get the pictures from your Mom and then sneak them to me. I have put them in here for you since I obviously won't need them any more.
I hope this helps you see how important you were in my life. Absolutely THE single most important person in my life. And though we never sorted things out I always wanted the best for you.
Love - Your almost Dad
James William Johnson
I was shaking and sobbing so hard by the time I finished the letter that I had to sit down. I had been so blinded by my anger that I let him slip away from me. If only I had been able to get over the past and allowed the present to unfold, I could have had my Dad in my adult life and benefitted from that relationship. If I had just allowed it to happen. I was guilty of letting anger get in the way but he let guilt get in his way. Damn us both.
I read each birthday card. I was surprised that each card was tied to a theme I was into at that point in time. I guess Granny Anna shared lots about me with him. By the time I got to the photo album I wasn't sure I could take any more. There were photos of my pre-k graduation, my kindergarten graduation. My first day of school to first grade. My eighth grade and senior graduations. And he had my prom pictures too. And newspaper clippings just like he said.
Oh my God it feels like my heart is going to explode. I'm crying so hard I can't breath. Daddy, I'm sorry. I loved you. I did. I just wish I had stopped being angry long enough to have known you better. Now I never will.
*****
"Hey Dad, it's been six years since that day I found my box on your grave. I've come by every year on the anniversary of that day and holidays. Funny. I thought the house was way too big for just me. But you were right though because I ended up meeting and marrying Jack. And with his two kids from another relationship, that SUV with the best safety scores is proving very handy. And I graduate college next week. How about that!"
"But the most important reason I came today is -- are you ready for this? I found out today you're going to be a grandpa to a baby boy! We're going to name him James William after you. I'll bring the ultrasound picture when I get it."
"Bye until next time. Love you Dad."
About the Creator
Pam Reeder
Stifled wordsmith re-embracing my creativity. I like to write stories that tap into raw human emotions.
Author of "Bristow Spirits on Route 66", magazine articles, four books under a pen name, technical writing, stories for my grandkids.
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