It had been a difficult few years for me. The last time I had my hand on this door handle my father was none to happy to see me.
We had always been very distant and none more so after the death of my mother. I really wanted to be close to him but the closer I got the further apart we became. He loved me I knew that, but he just couldn’t show it. His heart was as hard as a melon and there was just no way for me to break through.
He told me to leave and never come back. That he never wanted to see me again were his words. Those words hit me deep in my heart and I will never forget it. Walking out the door and closing it behind me, pulling it slowly with the handle as not to make a sound. Disappearing into the night without a trace that I had ever been there.
Today was different, there was a fresh breeze in the air, it was Autumn, the sun shone through the clouds and lit up all the leaves on the trees. The reds, oranges and yellows were a sight to see, that only a painter could ever recreate.
He was gone, he had died today and I am here, standing here again. Standing here in the hope that perhaps his spirit or ghost, will be at ease and within my inner emotions I will feel him and know that he is no longer angry at me.
I hold the handle and then enter in. I feel sick, so sick, that I may faint. All those old memories come flooding back. It takes me back to that same day and hour. Then something happens as if by magic the door opens. Could it be him, the wind, or just an old door with loose hinges? I walk and stand in the same spot all those years ago. My heart racing and my mouth dry.
I open my mouth and say “I know we had our ups and downs, we both hurt, hurt so much that we hurt each other, but I love you.” ” I love you and forgive us both, I forgive you for what happened and forgive myself for not being stronger and saying how I felt.” But I am here today, standing here, facing my fears and facing a memory of long ago.
Just as I say that the door closes behind me and the light shines through the window onto a chair at a table. I sit down and feel at peace. I feel at peace because I am home, and in a home and with the spirit of my father that loves me and has invited me in again.
