Today's MOSTLY TRUE STORY: A Father's Gentle Touch

F LoBuono

It was the Summer between my freshman and sophomore years of high school - 1970 to be exact. And, I was in love for the very first time. Yes, we were just kids but the feeling was so very real. She was the first girl (and, I do mean girl) that I had sexual relations with. We weren't very good at it, but that's a story for another day.

We started dating in the Spring and had grown very close by the end of the school year. She was so innocent and shy. I was loud and boastful. In other words, we were the perfect combination. And, we fell in love. It was innocent and fresh, but also very genuine.

I had plans to work at Palisades Amusement Park for the summer to earn money for the following school year. She was a member of the school choir and was planning on touring Europe with the group for most of the summer. I remember our tearful good-bye when her father loaded her into the family car for the trip to the airport. Of course, we professed our undying love and promised to write religiously. Then she was gone.

The first few weeks went OK. I think that if I didn't write to her EVERYDAY, it was every OTHER day. I wasn't even sure if she was receiving them. Didn't matter. I HAD to write them. Occasionally, I would get an Air Mail envelope with a cool stamp from what ever country she mailed the return from. It was all so exciting.

But, it was also frustrating. I understood that, because of her traveling, she could not write me as regularly as I could her. And, as the summer continued, her letters became few and far between. I fell into a deep depression. I was SO lonely. I felt like I wasn't going to make it through the Summer.

I walked around the house moping and muttering to myself. I lost weight. I couldn't train for the coming football season. I had trouble getting out of bed in the morning. There was no gravity - the world just sucked. God, I was just plain pathetic.

Well, one day, at the height of my misery, I crashed on my parent's bed. I'm not sure why I was there. Perhaps, it was because it was king-sized, I could throw my whole body across it and bury my face in the covers. In that way, I could hide my tears. And, that's exactly what I did.

I'm not sure how long I must have been lying there but, after a period of time, I heard my father enter the room. He didn't say anything at first but, rather, sat down beside me on the bed. He placed his hand on my back and began to rub me most gently while saying, "Frankie, I wish that I could take this away from you. But, I can't. It's a path you must walk yourself. But, remember, I'll be waiting for you when you when you pop out the other side. I promise that this, too, shall pass."

He lingered a few more seconds, rubbing my back. Then he got up and walked away.

Of course, my girlfriend returned and we had a joyous reunion. But, unfortunately, as is the case with most young love, it didn't last very much longer. What did endure was my father's undying commitment to me, my brother and sister, and my mother. He had his flaws, but expressing his love for his family was NOT one of them. My father always let me know that there was NOTHING more important to him in his life than me. Nothing.

So, to him, and ALL the men who became TRUE fathers, we love you and thank you for all you do!