A Father's Vow

The conversation my father and I had hours before my wedding

 

The Vows of a Father

 

The crisp September air managed to seep its way through the quarter of an inch window gap that was left previous nights before. I could still see the morning dew hesitantly scaling down the center of the frosted glass window, like a father anxiously waiting for his child to descend a playground slide. Judging by the way the sunrays were dancing across the pastured green landscaping, I knew that the time when I say, “I do” was drawing closer. In the corner of the third guest bedroom that I slept in stood a mahogany, Victorian mirror wrapped in cob webs and noticeable carvings of names of those whose bedroom it slumbered in throughout the generations. What better way to rehearse my vows but to use the same mirror that my grandfather passed to my father. Little did I know about the other generational gifts that my grandfather passed on.

            On the well draped California king mattress consumed by a red and soft yellow floral pattern comforter lay my rented, gray satin stained Vera Wang tuxedo with a soft pink tie and black patent leather dress shoes to match. Located inside the left side of the jacket, my vows rested, waiting to be whipped out and recited for an emotionally hungry crowd. With my vows in my right hand, I took a deep breath and called for my father to be by my side. As a child, my father would help me express my feelings and emotions through literature instead of sports and other physical activities. With just a stroke of a pen or pencil, I could create a world with no wars, sickness, or pain, but I was incapable of sharing my feelings for another person. My father told me that when the time was right, he was going to share with me one of his pieces that he wrote in efforts to inspire me to tap into my emotional side.

            “Mr. Elliott, Mr. Elliott,” I announced to my dad, “I’m ready for my father to give me the big speech on women.”

            Before my dad walked in the room, his overpowering musk of Cool Water filled the hallway and forcefully made its way into the room like an intruder.

            “Son”, my father prodded while gracefully walking across the wooden threshold, “I don’t have a big speech about women or all the answers on how to make your wife happy, but what I do have is a piece of history that will help you navigate through your thoughts while you’re preparing your vows.” A smile danced on the edges of my mouth in excitement after hearing the words pour out of my father’s mouth like a running fountain of wisdom. My dad reached into his back pocket and pulled out a folded, discolored piece of yellow construction paper with gibberish written on the front it.

            “Dad, what is that?” I questioned, “What am I supposed to do with a piece of scrap paper”?

My father whispered in my ear, “It isn’t what you do with it, it’s what you learn from it that matters.” My dad unfolded the tarnished construction paper to reveal its contents. The title read, My Vows. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I shook my head in disbelief that he was going to share the words that he spoke to my mother on their wedding day. I remained apprehensive of the thought that my father and I connecting on this emotional level, but I certainly was not going to goof up the moment by questioning his motives. I needed to see the words that lay on the paper. My mind felt like a volcanic explosion of curiosity and eagerness. Before my father could utter a word, I noticed a stream of tears flowing down his face like a melting pop-sickle.

Struggling to speak, my dad’s shaky voice began, “Son, growing up I also had a hard time expressing myself face to face with people. Your grandfather taught me to write my feelings down in a journal to better my skills as a writer and to also develop my ability with interacting with others. I passed the same methods down to you.”

Overwhelmed with affection, I confessed that through my father’s inspirations on literature, I saw an increase in my grade every semester in my English course. Before my father told me about his childhood, I would have never guessed that what he instilled in me would carry over into my success of literacy papers and other English assignments. My father glanced at his silver Fossil watch and proclaimed that I had about thirty-five minutes until show-time. Without hesitation, my dad bolted towards the door like a burst of energy only to leave his vows next to me.

“Dad,” I blurted, “you left something.”

“I want you to keep it and read it for inspiration”, my father addressed.

“I have a better idea,” I proclaimed, “let’s read it together.”

 

Reviews

[rickm97]

Wonderful read, Daryl. Well crafted, well detailed, and written from the heart. Yes sir, very well done.
Especially loved how the Cool Water forced its way in. Kinda reminds me of my father's Old Spice, back in th' day.
Hope to read more from you soon.

[Gerry Legister]

Very enjoyable and well inspired to feel the father address coming thorough pouring out from the fathers mouth, you have a wonderful ability and interaction with words, look forward to reading more