Dancing with my Father

In addition to watching Spring warily edge its way into Ohio, this is the time of year when we celebrate our wedding anniversary and our Son's birthday. It's now been more than a decade and a half since we lost my Dad to cancer in between those 2 celebrations. On the night before Dad's funeral, Mom asked if I would "write something" for Dad. This is what I wrote.



When Dad came back from the hospital after back surgery, he was still able to walk, if he had some help. So - when he wanted to go down the hall, or into the family room, he and some family member would engage in a slow, deliberate dance, with one person walking backwards, providing support, and Dad holding on and directing the operation.

He and I did this strange dance down the hall, with me there for support and his strong, strong hands holding on to my arms. It made me think of so many other times when I had noticed the strength of those hands, all through my life.

For most of his adult life, Dad held a 'white-collar' job, but I always thought of him in terms of physical labor, and pictured always the strength in those hands.

Those hand had, in the course of his life, chopped cotton, picked cotton, and hoed down the long rows of innumerable gardens and fields. They had also held a well-worn Bible with tender care as he prepared to share the Word in worship or with parishioners who, as he did in recent days, knew illness or incapacity.

Those hands, which could display such strength, could gently caress the frailest hand of another, and did - as he stood by countless hospital beds - a steadfast presence when other friends and family members faced death.

I would think of these things as we did our slow, walking dance around my brother's home. It seems strange, in a family which is not usually physically demonstrative, to remember Dad in a word like "dance" - but for me the image connects with an old Shaker tune used in a hymn that refers to Christ as "Lord of the Dance" -

"... they buried my body and they thought I'd gone, but I am the Dance and I still go on. They cut me down & I leapt up high, I am the life that will never, never die; I'll live in you if you'll live in me. I am the Lord of the Dance said He."

[19th century Shaker tune/Words by Sydney Carter, 1963]

This is for Dad, as he experiences the Life whose promise he shared with so many others, and which he now enjoys. This is from one of your sons, but it comes on behalf of many, many more people.

Thanks - thanks for the dance, Dad.