What words of a loved one echo in your mind often?
This month marks nine years since dad left his body. I saw him in a dream recently. We were in his welding shop out behind the house. The wood stove was warming up the space. Before us was a large boat frame that he was about to enhance. There was the familiar sound of the Alabama clay softly singing between the concrete floor and the soles of his scuffed brown leather cowboy work boots as he walked towards me. He wore his weld-burned pockmarked Wrangler’s and a thick fleece-lined flannel. With his coffee mug in hand and his baby blue eyes smiling at me, he transmitted a wordless message: “There is work to do; you got this.” I woke up in wonder, grateful and comforted to have seen him.
Soon after this dream encounter, I was prompted to make a major life decision. With absolute clarity, I chose to stay where I am rather than relocate across the country for a “return to office” mandate. I had been working remotely for nearly nine years. It was time for me to let go of my current job. I hear dozens of dad’s refrains throughout my days. All three of the following echoed in my mind in this “life” situation. Though the words for each are different, they relay a single truth. Love.
On self-reliance, resilience, and tools
At home from Atlanta during a holiday early in my career, we were having coffee together in dad’s welding shop. He shared with me:
“Your grandpa said, ‘I don’t know why you are wasting your money on her going to school at Auburn when she is just going to get married and have kids. Couldn’t she stay home and go to Faulkner State Junior College?’ ”
“I told him, ‘Because, Ed, she wants to go to school. And I want her to get a good education and a good job and to be able to support herself just in case she marries some [cussword].”
Years later, I pieced together stories Dad shared about his matriarchs, the women who raised him. It was painful for him to observe that the devoted women he loved were not always treated with appreciation, kindness, and respect. I appreciated that he wanted me to have and leverage my own agency.
Life is too short to put up with BS
Speak your truth, and don’t lie to yourself. Keep your head, your heart, and your actions in the world aligned with one another. This refrain came up when folks would complain to him about situations in which they were unhappy. If you asked for his advice, he would give it to you straight.
He might comment on what he was hearing or seeing if you didn’t request his advice. He and mom stayed out of my business, but when I was in my 20s, had moved back near them, and silently struggled for a long time in a relationship, the extent of the multi-dimensional weight I carried had become visible to them. His repeated question to me:
“How is your health, Baby?”
His question was one of the multiple signs I needed to heed to take action and avert what undoubtedly would have eventually led to a health crisis.
Let your conscience be your guide
It was unusual for Dad to pick me up from work. I relished this one on one time. My sweat-soaked clothes began to dry as the briny Gulf Shores air flowed through the rolled down windows of his truck as we turned north onto highway 59. My curly shoulder-length hair was thoroughly salt and sand dusted. I was in my long sleeve soccer jersey and beloved faded Calvin Klein’s, crusted with brown fertilizer. My steel toed boots were on the floor board next to my bare feet. At the Bon Secour National Wildlife Refuge Perdue Unit, the Fairhope boys and I had distributed 800 pounds of fertilizer amongst the sea oats for sand dune restoration that day. I was fifteen, a tomboy, not yet kissed or aware of my feminine powers, and the only girl on our teenage crew of four.
“You and your mom already had the birds and bees talk awhile back, right?”
“Mhmm. We went over that in the fourth grade just before that talk they did in school.”
“Okay, well, you are growing up. And I just want you to know that guys will tell girls things they want to hear for… well…let’s just say…favors. Do you catch my drift?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“What I mean is be careful with boys, honey. Just remember to always trust your gut and let your conscience be your guide.”
“Okay, Dad, thanks.”
I understood that he was proud of me, believed in me and my aspirations, and hoped I would follow my true north. I am lucky in that, all in all, I have.
I miss him. I take comfort in these memories. I take comfort in considering that which is eternal. And on the notion of eternity and paths, I hope you enjoy today’s musical accompaniments:
sheteststhewater 