It was Christmas 1968 and once again my family had enjoyed opening our gifts and celebrating the birth of Christ together. I received my first portable record player that Christmas which was the hottest gift on the must-have list. My sister remembers us playing different songs and dancing around with our father.
Somewhere between December 29th and 30th of that year, my father and a friend of my sister whom I’ll call Jeff left for King William County, Virginia to visit and check on my grandmother. One night while there, the two went to visit family and friends in the community. My dad began to feel ill, and Jeff took Dad back to my grandmother’s and they called 911. Dad never made it to the hospital that night; he died in route of a massive heart attack.
My sister’s friend was left alone to drive back to Delaware and deliver the news to us. I can’t imagine how Jeff must have felt making that four hour drive by himself to tell my mother she was now a widow and we had lost the king of our family. I will never forget the pounding on the front door early that morning or the sound of my sister’s sobs after the news was relayed.
Once the sun came up that day, my mom gathered me and my brother and our pastor came into the bedroom and told us Dad was gone. It seemed surreal. I was only twelve years old; my brother was nine. It felt as if someone had put me in an unfamiliar room, turned of the lights, blindsided me with a 2 x 4 and then pulled the rug out from under me.
I was my father’s little princess and I knew it. He was not only my dad but the king of our home. He made everything alright and now he was gone. I had no idea what I was supposed to do. But God!
Savannah J, providing a place of tranquility away from the stress of life.
Follow Savannah on Twitter http://bit.ly/1tBBC6o
on Google Plus http://bit.ly/1pnq9sP
and on Facebook http://on.fb.me/10p1o32