They Were Never There

March 6, 2024 – Do you know what you have been doing, on this day, for the past 11 years, every… single… year?

I do.

Please entertain me for a minute.

Up until this year, for 11 years, every… single… year, I made a 338-mile trip to stand at my daddy’s headstone.

Why not this year? I am glad you asked. Please allow me to share the reason.

I would like to say it is simple but it is very complicated. I have put my life on hold every… single… year for this day. NO, I do not regret it. NO, I am NOT complaining. But on the 6th day of March, the week long trip was planned around my standing and staring at a bronze plate, engraved with my daddy’s name, anniversary, birth, and death dates. I have stood there apologizing, crying, asking unanswered questions, alone and lost. Staring at the earth that holds my daddy’s remains, six feet below me, in it’s grips. I also made that trip on his birthday in July and then again around Christmas. I repeated the apologies, asked the unanswered questions, cried, all alone and lost.

Then, in the 11th year, 2022, that bronze plate changed.

My mama’s name, birth, and death date appeared to the left.

Once again, I stood staring at the earth that now held both of my parents in its grips, six feet below me. My apologies changed, as did the questions that were still unanswered. The tears were different. Confusion joined the emotional party in my mind, as I stood alone and still lost.

After I made the trip in July 2023, I stood looking at that bronze plate. So many emotions flooded my soul. Anger. Shame. Hurt. Confusion. Sadness. Loneliness. Nothing I did or could do would fix the mess left when daddy took his last breath on March 6, 2012 at 12:25pm. Nothing I did or could do would right the wrong doings of my mother or my siblings. Nothing I did or could do would make daddy wrong about my mama’s fate. Nothing I did or could do, would bring them back. Nothing I did or could do would fix the broken heart of my daddy. Nothing I did or could do would fix my mama’s inability to love or be loved.

The answers to all those questions I have asked for 11 years didn’t matter. There were no answers. I am alone. My parents are gone!

My siblings had made a mockery of the family name, of our daddy’s legacy. They severed the last shread of hope for us to be a family, by fighting over things and money. The only united front those two shared, was making sure me and my kids, the first grand children, were not to receive so much as a paper clip from the estate. I have apologized to daddy repeatedly, as I know he would have been so ashamed.

I stood there, July 1, 2023 and decided that I had to quit putting myself and my family through this cycle. I asked for the Good Lord to forgive me and tell my parents I loved them, walked away and told myself, “I will go back when I have answers”.

All those years, I never met anyone else at that bronze plate. All of those people who claimed to care and love them, specifically my own siblings, Were Never There. There were signs of perhaps someone else once or twice over the years, but on the days that were significant to our family, I seemed to be the only one there. Of the hundreds of people I shook hands with at daddy’s funeral, I have never seen one of them ever again. It seems that the piece of land, marked by a bronze plate, does not get many visitors.

So, this year, I have decided to lay 11 years of feelings and questions at God’s feet. I cannot do anything except live my own life now. I have a full plate with my own family and I am holding on to them very tightly. They will never not hear me tell them I love them.

Today, daddy… in the words of Reba’s latest song… if I had 7 minutes in heaven, I would spend them all with you! I love you daddy!