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“This is Miles,” I inform, looking at my father. “Miles, this is my father, Alan Brighton.” Miles approaches, reaching out to shake his hand. My father hesitates briefly, before accepting his hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir,” Miles remarks. Knowing he can feel the tension in the room, Miles looks to me and asks, “Would you like me to go grab us a couple coffees? I think we passed by the cafeteria.” He looks at me with questions in his eyes. Asking if I want him to leave and if I am okay. I just nod. I need to do this part alone.
“Coffee sounds great, babe.”
“Can I get you something, Mr. Brighton?” he asks. My father just shakes his head and continues looking out the window. Miles leans down and kisses my forehead, then gives me a squeeze before leaving the room. I stare at the door for a moment before I work up the courage needed to talk with my dad. I take a deep breath and look back at my father. It’s a miracle he even knows who I am. With the reports from mom and William, I knew he would most likely not know who I am.
I take a seat under the window and look my father in the eyes. It’s been so long since I’ve been this close to him that my anxiety spikes in my stomach, making me feel uneasy.
I can tell the years haven’t been kind to him. He looks much older than his actual age. There are more wrinkles than I remember, and his skin doesn’t have the usual glow from being in the sun. My heart aches, and I know I need to get this over with before I chicken out.
“Dad, I wanted to talk to you. I know we haven’t talked much over the years, but I wanted to come see you,” I admit softly, feeling more and more insecure about this conversation.
“I know why you’re here, Elizabeth,” he responds as he glances at me, and then back to the window. I take a deep breath, unsure of what he’ll say next. I wipe my sweaty palms over my jeans and look up at him. He’s looking at me now. Not saying a word, just studying me.
“I know that I’m sick, and my mind comes and goes. It seems like it’s in a fight every day to see if I’ll be able to make an appearance or not. You caught me on a good day it seems. I’m surprised you cared enough to come.” A blast of anger shoots through me at his harsh words, but I hold my tongue.
“I came because there are things that I have wanted to get off my chest for years now, and I never told you. I guess I have been holding onto them like a grudge, and I never knew the impact it was having on my life until recently,” I confess, while fidgeting with my hands, unable to look him in the eyes.
“So, you are here to tell me all the ways I have messed up and things I’ve done wrong over the years then, huh?” he grits out, no longer looking at me. He’s looking at the storm that’s about to wreak havoc over us, both figuratively and literally. I can feel the sting of tears in my eyes, but I don’t dare let them drop. They are a weakness to him, and I will never get through this if they fall now. I feel a knot in my throat, only seeming to intensify with every passing moment. I know I need to respond, but I’m lost for words. For once the words aren’t flowing through me. They are firmly lodged in my head and refusing to be set free. I let out a long breath and pull my gaze up to him.I can do this. I CAN do this. This isn’t just for me and my baggage I carry, it’s for him and my forgiveness that he needs to know he has.
“Dad, please look at me. Please give me the time to getout the things I need to say before you say anything. Please give me this opportunity to share with you the emotions and feelings I’ve kept buried for far too long now. This is something I think we both need.” As I stare into his eyes, waiting for him to respond, he doesn’t say anything, but he gives me a slight nod. So, this is it. This is my chance to get everything out in the open. I pull my chair closer to his and take a deep breath to steady my nerves.
“When you and mom got divorced, I was devastated. I thought we had the perfect family. Even my friends thought that. I never even saw y’all fight. So, not only was it a shock to me, but I felt like the breath in my lungs had been knocked out of me.” I take another deep breath and look to him as he continues looking out at the storm.
“I was so angry at you for ruining everything. Obviously, I didn’t know the details, and they were spared to me because I was only twelve. There was no reason in my mind that I could manifest to justify that kind of behavior. I understand that it was juvenile thinking, but that’s what I was. A child. So, I became angry, and I directed that at you. We had been so close for as long as I could remember. You always said you were the big finger, and I was the little finger,” I recite as I hold up my hand and gesture to the pointer finger and the middle finger that came together to touch. He sighs and looks at my hand I’m holding up in front of him. His lips turn down slightly for a moment, and then his attention is back outside. I take another deep breath and continue.
“When I got to high school, you began buying me gift after gift. I think it was how you wanted to show me that you still cared, but all I wanted was you. The cell phone and the convertible were great for a while, but the shine wore off, and I was still left completely alone. Then you bought the house that you said we would live in together and I was ecstatic. I thought everything was going to be okay after that. So, I left my childhood home and my mom to move in with you. I can count on one hand the days you actually stayed there with me. Before I knew it, I was alone again and you were off with Evelyn, living at her house. The only commonality with all these scenarios is that you left me at the end. I wondered why she was so special, and why she had to take all your attention.So, I began to think your love for me was conditional. I felt I had to perform at high standards, or you wouldn’t look my way. I studied my ass off in high school and was almost the valedictorian, but I was beat out. I got so many awards, honors, and scholarships. I was so proud of what I had accomplished, especially with all the extracurricular activities. You were proud too for a while, until I told you what I wanted to study in college.” I pause letting the silence swirl around us. The only sounds were the thunder crashing from the storm and the patients and staff chattering beyond his door. He doesn’t say anything because he knows I’m not done and I’m thankful for that. I don’t want to fight. I want to free this poison from my system and finally clear the air with him.
“Through college, I would call you with good news or good grades just to get some semblance of reassurance from you. I was left always wanting more. I would get off the phone and scold myself for still needing your approval in my life when you clearly weren’t even a part of it anymore. I struggled with this for so long until I couldn’t take the rejection any longer. I don’t even know if you thought of it as rejection. This is all based on my point of view. I’ve never known your side of the story. Once I was older and suspected you got a divorce to be with Evelyn, I didn’t even want to look at you. You had been my hero for my entire childhood and then seeing you in this new light made me sick. The thought of you cheating on mom, and me for that matter, was more than I could bare. So, I distanced myself from you. I didn’t even want to look at you.” I see his jaw clench. He is grinding his teeth so hard that they might crack. I take another slow breath and continue.
“For several years, I looked for others to give me the love that I wasn’t getting from you. I went through heartbreak after heartbreak, overlooking red flags that could be seen a mile away. I just wanted that relationship, that connection with someone. Eventually, I began not trusting anyone or their motives. The only constant in my life had been Sarah. She stayed by my side through the good and the bad. The truest form of friendship that I have ever been gifted with. I felt that I always had to be this perfect version of myself, or I wasn’t lovable. Until recently, I felt as though all men couldn’t be trusted. Just like how I trusted you and you still left me.So did all my boyfriends, and with other women as well. I found myself in a very dark place and I couldn’t see the light no matter how much I clawed at the surface. I finally hit rock bottom. I knew something had to change and that something was me. I had to be enough. Not for others, but for myself. I had to learn to love me at my best and worst so that I could allow others to love me. It was a long hard road and it’s one I still stumble on along the way.” I pause as the words I have been holding in for so long are now out in the world. I feel like I have been ripped open for all to see but this is the next stage in my healing. I am exposed and vulnerable. This was something that had to be done before I was left without a chance to tell him how I felt. He glances over to me, and I know he can see all the emotions shooting through me in this moment. Pain. Relief. Anxiety. Hopefully, he sees my love for him. I reach over to grip his hand in my own.
“Dad, I’m only telling you how I have felt all these years. I need you to know the damage that stemmed from the divorce. This is my perspective, not yours. Mine. I’m not trying to change the past. The die has been cast. We can only move forward, and I’m stronger now. I guess it really is true that what doesn’t kill you will only make you stronger.” I chuckle half-heartedly. With what I have said, I feel like a weight has been lighted off my shoulders. One that until now, I didn’t realize was so heavy. I can breathe. I close my eyes briefly as tears trickle down my cheeks. I think of the anxiety of coming here and the fear of confronting him. The relief that it is out in the open now has me unable to hold the emotion in any longer. I feel my father place his other hand over mine and more tears begin falling at the gesture. I open my eyes and look up at him. He takes a moment and then speaks.
“Elizabeth,” he pauses as he closes his eyes for a moment, “I am truly sorry for all that you have been through because of my actions. There are things that I should have done differently. I always thought you were so strong. I never saw this struggle within you. I hate that as your father, I couldn’t see the obvious turmoil that was going on inside you, and at such a young age.” He takes his hand off mine and scrubs it down his face where I see a lone tear fall. My stomach sinks for him because I didn’t want to upset him. I wanted to mendour broken relationship. Before that could happen, he had to know what he had either knowingly or unknowingly done to me throughout the years. He looks back out at the storm that has just turned to rain.
“You know, the ocean has always reminded me of you,” he proclaims. “Not just because we always visited here when you were younger. Most people don’t know how powerful an ocean is. You are like the ocean, Elizabeth. You are both wild and calm, dangerous and beautiful. You are so strong and always have been, even if you think of your past as a weakness. You prevailed and came out on the other side. You may draw back, but you push forth just as much as the tides do.” He looks over at me and wipes the tears from the side of my cheek. I try to memorize this moment so it will be with me forever.
“Please, forgive me for not being what you needed. I’m here now.” He leans over and kisses my forehead as another tear escapes his eye. As I get up, I hug him as tight as I can without hurting him.
“Of course, I forgive you, daddy. It’s all water under the bridge,” I whisper into his ear with a smile on my face and fresh tears in my eyes. I sit back down, and he pats my knee a few times, then looks back out to the ocean.
“You know, I asked to be facing the ocean, so I could see you every day, Elizabeth. I see you in the waves, always. Your reflection shines through, and I know that you’re okay because of how strong you are. You’ll be okay when I’m gone. I love you, slugger,” he states, looking back at me. I am caught off guard by his confession, but more so from the softball endearment. He always called me that when I was younger. As he holds his hand up, he shows the two fingers close together, the gesture that I had reminded him of earlier. I hold my hand up to his and mirror the same expression. He gives me a small smile and looks back to the ocean.
“I love you too, daddy,” I utter softly. The words feel both foreign and familiar on my tongue. His gaze never leaves the window, but his body stiffens. I put my hand back on his, and his eyes snap to mine with confusion in them. The sudden change captures the breath from my lungs. Sadness falls over me like a fog at the different man sitting beside me.
“Dad? Are you okay?” I ask quietly. He pulls his hand from mine with confusion still written on his face.
“Who are you? I’m not your father. I don’t have any children. Where am I?” he asks me suspiciously. I stand up quickly to move back, so he doesn’t get more uncomfortable of how near I was sitting to him.
“Dad, it’s me, Elizabeth. We’ve been sitting here talking for the past hour. Do you remember?” I question even though I know the answer. My heart feels like it is breaking into pieces. He scoffs and tries to stand from his chair, but he’s unsteady on his feet. I reach out to help him, but he swats my hand away. As he begins to mumble, I struggle to make out what he is saying. I grab the nurse pager and push the button. I am completely and utterly at a loss of what to do in this moment. I just stand there with my hand over my heart, trying to ease the pain. I watch as my father backs further away from me because he doesn’t recognize me anymore. I know at that very moment that I’ve lost him. It’s as though God knew exactly how much time I needed with him, and he gave it to me, but not a moment longer.
As the nurse rushes in, she sees the state my father is in and gives me a sympathetic glance. She gets him to the edge of the bed, and he sits as she gives him a dose of medicine. I assume it’s something that will calm him down. I’m rooted to the spot, unable to move. I feel like I’m watching that sad scene from “The Notebook” when Ally and Noah have one moment together where she remembers him, and then it quickly fades away. I can’t help the fresh tears beginning to stream down both sides of my face. I wipe them away, but they’re quickly replaced with new ones. Suddenly, I can’t breathe again. I must get out of here. As I quickly snatch my purse from the table and make it to the door, I glance back at the man I’ve known all my life. He no longer knows me, and I know I have to get out of here. The rawness of our conversation, followed by this episode, has my mind reeling as I run past the nurses’ station and down the hallway from which we came. I hear someone shouting behind me, but I can’t make out the words. The only thing I can focus on is getting out of here.
I burst out of the double doors in the front of the building, and I’m greeted with the beautiful rain I saw fromthe window. I don’t stop running. I take off toward the ocean, getting soaked in the process. I run until my lungs are burning in my chest, and I no longer feel like I’m suffocating. I make it to the sand and drop my purse to the ground. I hold out my arms and take in the rain, facing the sky with my eyes closed. The rain is cleansing me of this afternoon, of the emotions that just keep pouring out of me. It’s washing it all away, more than anything ever could. I have always loved the rain. The clouds pour their hearts out to me, and I soak up every bit of it. I don’t know how much time passes, but I’m suddenly wrapped in large, warm arms. I open my eyes and look up at Miles. He has rain dripping from his eyelashes as he looks down at me with concern, but ultimately, love in his eyes. I let my eyelids flutter shut and push my face into his chest. He kisses the top of my wet hair and rubs a hand over my back. He doesn’t tell me we need to go, because he knows I need this and is here for me. He continues comforting me until I have no more tears left in my body. I feel numb from the emotions and the cold rain. He picks up my purse and scoops me up into his arms as he walks us back to the car.
“I love you, Miles,” I mumble softly. He leans down and kisses me on the forehead.
