A Scene of my Father

The graying clouds and dim kitchen lights made for a somber scene. The younger children sat in dining chairs while the older siblings stood around. They exchanged perplexed glances. The eldest shifted his fingers incessantly. The parents walked in, silent. The father sat down, facing his children. Taking time to look at them, each individually, he smiled. His thumbs fumbled in his folded hands. The wife took her place in the chair next to him. Her eyes were on him. A gentle smile lingered on her face despite the faintest quiver at the corner of her mouth. The children sat motionless under the silence. It began to rain.

“Kids... I’ve lost my job.” The father looked at his children. He noticed them shift in their seats. His youngest boys gazed blankly. He noticed the older boys grow stiff. He felt the touch of his wife’s hand grip his. Their eyes meet and locked. He then turned back to his children.

“The next few months will be difficult. But we’re going to make it through.”

A few months grew to eighteen. Savings emptied. Friends brought groceries. Resumes squandered paper. Appointments wasted time. Quite dinners followed unsuccessful interviews. Prayers grew longer. The father noticed the cloudy days more than the sunny ones.

Another day meant the hour-long drive back from a temporary job. It barely payed for itself. Steering the car into the driveway, he noticed squealing children spill out of the front door. They ran to the car laughing. The father chuckled to himself as they chased the car into the garage. As he walked out they told him about their day, interrupting each other incessantly. He listened, ignoring the worries rattling inside his brain like a hundred tacks. Their grins seemed oblivious to his weary face. He detected a hint of Lasagna in the air as he opened the door to the kitchen. He embraced his wife. They held each other for a moment. He went into his office and sighed, setting his briefcase down beside resumes, bills, and food-stamp forms. The phone rang. He answered it casually.

“Yes, Mr. Carman? The company we spoke of -- They’d like to make you CEO.”

The parting clouds and warm office lamp made for a rich scene. He stood there, unsure whether his heart would stop beating or bust through his chest. A breeze swept through the trees.