A FATHER'S TOUCH

Joseph LoBuono

It was the end of my first true love. We must have been all of about 15 years old. And, yes, we were precocious. She was the first girl I ever had sexual relations with. But it had ended as I suppose it inevitably had to. We were simply just too young to understand all the complexities involved with being in love. Still, it was VERY real at the time, and I was devastated that it had ended.

Somehow, I wound up collapsing in a fetal position on my parents' bed. Despite my feeble and confused mental state I suddenly sensed my father's presence in the room. He walked over and sat at the edge of the bed. Then I felt his hand gently rubbing my back. After a few seconds of that soothing touch, he spoke: "Frankie, I wish that I could take this away from you, but I can't." He didn't say anything else but kept rubbing my back for a few more seconds. Then he got up and left, leaving me to my thoughts.

The whole thing couldn't have lasted more than a minute or so but it's impact has stayed with me for over 50 years. First, it captures the spirit of a man whose love for his children was unbounded. And he showed it often and in many ways. This was just another. He was a master communicator and always seemed to know the right thing to say at just the right time. This was one of the best examples.

Lost in my misery, I may not have known it then, but it was EXACTLY what I needed to hear at that moment. However, over the years I've come to understand his message that life is full of ups and downs that we must experience within ourselves to be truly ALIVE. And, most importantly, it is important that we let ourselves FEEL those emotions. They are not "right" or "wrong." They as much as a part of us as laughter and joy.

And, of course, he was right. I have lived 71 years now and that scenario has repeated itself on more than one occasion.  I was going to say "unfortunately" but that would be contrary to the spirit of what my father was ultimately saying. Yes, we experience loss many times in our lives. They are painful, so much so that we would like to just crawl up in a fetal position in our parent's bed and cry. Even when we can't physically do that, we all retreat into our misery in one way or another. And that's OK. We NEED to feel - all things! It makes for a full life, one that is well-lived.

I get it. But it's time like this that I wish I could feel my father's gentle touch just one more time. And then I realized it's still there. It never left. And it will be with me until they die that I die.