A Man Named Dave

you that summer at the river … you said it was like heaven. You and I can live there … and go fishing, sit at Johnson’s Beach, or do anything we want. And in the summer … we can go to San Fran and catch a game at Candlestick –just like you always said we’d do. We can be like a real father and son. Just the two of us.
    “We made it, Dad! We really made it! Everything’s gonna be fine. We can be together … and live at peace. We got a home, a real home. No more fighting, no more troubles, no one’s gonna kick us out. We got it made! It’s gonna be fine. You just relax and … I’ll take care of you … I’ll take care of everything.…”
    I broke off when I felt Father’s trembling fingers clutch my hand. Never before in my entire life had both of us looked deep into each other. His dark eyes were perfectly clear as they bore into mine. I could somehow feel the immense shame, loneliness, sorrow, and pain in Father’s gaze. “I’ve always been proud of you. You’ve always been my hero. And as your son, I swear to God, one day I will, I will make you proud. I always have and always will love you, Father. Now you relax … and I’ll meet you at the river.”
    With whatever strength Father had, he strained to lift his head to mine to kiss me on the mouth. With my free hand I held him from behind his neck as delicately as possible. The two of us had finally joined as father and son. I returned the gesture by smiling at him and kissing him on the forehead. Then, like so many years ago, as he had that summer when we strolled together at the Russian River, my father winked at me before he slipped away.
    I held Father’s body as long as possible before I eased his head back onto the white pillow. Looking at Father’s face, I felt so utterly stupid for thinking that I could have somehow saved him. Time seemed to come to a halt as I gazed at the man I had so long wanted to be with. After closing Father’s eyes, I thanked God for allowing me to be with him during his last moments. With the tips of my fingers I rubbed my lips, thinking how Father had never kissed me before. No matter what void had existed between Father and me in the past, I now had the memory of being with him when it counted most. It was something I would forever cherish.
    Stepping outside the room, I saw that Steve understood. With a piece of paper in his hand, he dialed the phone and gave it to me. “What?” I asked in a daze.
    Not looking at me directly, Steve muttered, “Your mother … she wanted to know as soon as it happened … the moment he passed away.”
    Closing my eyes, I could feel myself drift. At the lowest point of my life, Mother, in all her grandeur, had maintained control of the situation. As always, I wasn’t even worthy of the privilege of her majesty’s unlisted line, but was somehow good enough to do her dirty work. At the other end of the phone line, I could hear Mother’s heaving voice. I swallowed hard and performed my function. “This phone call is to inform you that your husband, Stephen Joseph Pelzer, has just passed away.”
    I stopped for a second, surprised by my deadpan tone and lack of compassion. As much as I prided myself on manners, at that moment I didn’t give a damn about Mother or her dramatic, self-centered exploits. Mother didn’t even flinch. “Well … yes. It’s really better that way, isn’t it? Uhm …” A moment later the line went dead.
    I stared at the phone, which seemed welded to my hand. From behind the nurses’ station, Steve pried the phone from my fingers. “We need to talk,” he said with a bright smile. “Remember, when I told you that he wouldn’t go until he was ready?”
    With tears now freely running down my face, it was all I could do to nod my head yes.
    “Your father wasn’t ready. He held on … he waited … he waited for you.”
    “For me?” I repeated.
    “Yes!” Steve said with conviction. “Out of all the people he’s met during his life, your father hung on so he could say goodbye to you.”
    “But,” I babbled, “he, ah … he couldn’t even speak, not even with his eyes. He couldn’t –”
    “Doesn’t matter,” Steve replied as he came from behind the counter. “He knew what he was doing. David, listen carefully, your father fought as long and as hard as anyone I’ve ever known under those conditions. He could have given up a long time ago. He knew the outcome; he knew he wasn’t going to walk out of here. He waited. He waited for you!
    “You get what I’m saying?” Steve asked as he held my