A Father’s Day memory: Dad wasn’t in our life often, but we loved him. And he is missed
Father’s Day always brings back bitter-sweet memories for me. Growing up without my dad in the home was not always a happy situation. Although our mom did the best that she could to make a full and complete homelife for me and my brother Adam, we always knew there was something, or someone, missing. It was our dad.
Many of you are familiar with my story: how our mom left an abusive marriage when she was only 24, with two children under age 6. I understand why Mom left. Although I can’t remember our dad ever being anything but loving to me and my baby brother, he was an abusive husband to our mom. And as she has often said, that was not the kind of home life she wanted for herself or for her children.
And so, one morning, Mom kissed Dad goodbye for the last time as he left for work. She left Williston, in northwestern Florida, and set out to make a better life for us — never looking back.
I later learned that Dad was very remorseful. He used to tell anyone who would listen that he had a good wife.
I wouldn’t see Dade again until I was 15 and living in the Liberty Square Housing Project in Liberty City, when he came to visit us. My brother was 12. It was an awkward reunion. I remember Dad looking most of the time at his feet. He didn’t know what to say, so his sister — my Aunt Leola, who had come bringing her delicious homemade cakes and pies — did most of the talking.
The visit was short, but I went to bed smiling that night. Our dad had come to see us. It would be another five years before I would see him again. So, I missed him at my high school graduation. But Mom was there. And so was my brother, grinning proudly at me as I marched into the Dade County Auditorium with my fellow classmates.
I so wanted him to be there, too.
As the years passed, I had wished for a dad who would worry about me when I went on my first date.
I envied my friend Delores Collie, whose father was the kind of dad I wanted in my life. Mr. Collie was a gentleman who loved his wife and children and embraced me as his surrogate daughter. I am so happy that I had him as a role model of what a real dad should be like.
Getting to know Mr. Collie and watching him love his family only made me miss my dad the more. I daydreamed about what it would be like for Dad to be in our lives. First, Mom wouldn’t have to work on two jobs to provide for us. Then, there would be four of us at the dinner table at night, not just three, or more often, only my brother Adam and I, because Mom was working at her second job.
I am thankful, too, for the late James Wanza, my homeroom teacher at Booker T. Washington Junior/Senior High School, who fussed over us girls as if he were our real dad. Mr. Collie and Mr. Wanza. Two good men, they were. But they weren’t Dad.
My brother and I were grown when we actually got to have a relationship with Dad. He got acquainted with my sons and loved them like a doting granddad. I was so happy to be working at a job that gave paid vacations. That way, I could take my sons to visit him during the summer in Eatonville where he lived.
My brother, who was serving in the U.S. Air Force during that era, took his family with him wherever he was stationed, except to Vietnam. Unlike their cousins, my brother’s children never got to really know Dad.
Dad died in 1999, when he was 87. My brother and I had taken his grandchildren to see him one last time, days before he died. On that visit, I said to him as we were leaving, “Dad, we will be back soon to see you…”
His response: “Oh, I’ll be checking out of here soon.”
And he did. Just a little more than a week after our visit, Dad’s wife Susie called to let us know Dad had “checked out”.
I am so thankful for the short time we had together. I am so happy that he got to know his grandchildren. And that he knew that we — my brother and I — loved him and had forgiven him for not being in our lives. Mom had forgiven him, too. And once when he and Susie were in town, Mom invited them to her house. It was a sweet reunion.
So, Dad, these are my thoughts about you on this Father’s Day. Just want you to know that you are missed. And loved.
Jesus People Ministries Church to have Father’s Day Service
Jesus People Ministries Church International at 4055 NW 183rd St. in Miami Gardens invites the community to the annual Father’s Day service to be at 9 and 11 a.m. Sunday (June 18) in the sanctuary.
Dr. Gloria Williams, the church’s senior pastor will lead a Faith Rally at 7:30 p.m. on June 22 at the church. Everyone is welcome.
Miami Oratorio Society to present concert at Sierra Norwood Calvary Baptist
The Miami Oratorio Society will present “A Summer Medley” concert at 5 p.m. on July 16, at Sierra Norwood Calvary Baptist Church, 495 NW 191st St.
Directed by Andrew Anderson, the musical group will present a concert of a variety of music, from the classical works of Brahms, Haydn, and Mozart, to Negro Spirituals and the more contemporary music of Cymbala and Hogan.
The guest soloists will include Emelia Acon, Catherine Spitzer, Lievens Castillo, and Daniel Snodgrass. Renowned pianist Karl Van Richards will accompany. The concert will end with a grand finale featuring The Tim Watson Jazz Band, with Andrew Anderson on piano.
Tickets are $25 in advance for adults, $30 at the door, and $10 for children under 12. To purchase tickets and for more information, go to, www.miamioratorio.org, or call Gloria Christian at 954-882-2242, or Judith Feldman at 305-610-0500.
Elder Edwards to be consecrated as a Bishop
At 10 a.m. on June 25, Elder Thomas P. Edwards, a long-time spiritual leader at The Church of God Tabernacle (True Holiness), 1351 NW 67th St. in Liberty City, will be installed and consecrated as bishop.
Bishop Jimmy L. Williams, Jurisdictional Prelate of the Florida Eastern Ecclesiastic Jurisdiction and pastor of The Lighthouse Worship Center Church of God in Christ in Fort Lauderdale will be the Officiating Prelate. Bishop Arthur Wilson, of The Church of God of Prophesy, will serve as the Officiating Bishop over the service.
Bea Hines can be reached at bea.hines@gmail.com
