Father Memories

Tomorrow is my father's birthday. He will be 89 years old. In the past year, his health has declined a lot, and he is dealing with increasingly severe symptoms of congestive heart failure (CHF).

I had heard of CHF but didn't understand what it was until my father was diagnosed with it. It's an accumulation of fluids that gradually puts pressure on the heart and lungs, making it difficult to breathe.

I woke up a couple of mornings ago feeling very worried about him, when suddenly a childhood memory arose that I hadn't thought of for many, many years.


It occurred when I was very young, under the age of 7. My parents, brother and I had driven to a bird sanctuary just outside our small midwestern town. I don't know if we had even gotten out of the car or just were looking around. Anyway, my memory begins as it is nearly dark, and we are in the car getting ready to drive home. My father is backing the car up and suddenly there is a woman pounding on the hood to get our attention. She is nicely dressed, but has blood on her face and looks nearly hysterical with fear. She is shouting for help, asking us to let her in the car. She keeps looking over her shoulder, and I see a man from whom she obviously wants to flee.

I see her face very clearly looking at me through the window beside me. Then my father drives away.

I don't know which disturbs me more--the woman's distress or the fact that we didn't help her.

Later, after we are back home, I asked my father why we didn't help the woman. He said he didn't want to get involved because we kids were there. "Besides," he said, "women get into that kind of trouble because they asked for it."

I couldn't imagine then how that could be. I still can't. I still wonder what happened to her. I still wish she could know that I would have tried to help her, even as a child. May she feel peace about whatever happened to her that night. May I feel peace about it, too.

I have some deep forgiveness work to do.