Mark Linden O'Meara

A Father's Fear

As I rounded the corner from the Botanical Gardens to head towards the ferry dock, I noticed the city workers collecting the pylons from the half marathon that had just finished a few minutes earlier. As I began the rather steep climb up the stairs, a man said "Did you run the marathon?" No, I replied, in between catching my breath and tackling the next stair. "Well, look at this bag" As I looked down I could see the t-shirt and shorts and socks that he had worn. "I wasn't the fastest, but I'm doing pretty good for my age" he said, "Eighty... almost eighty one! I can run these marathons, but I swear they'll kill me! But so what!"

As we walked a few blocks, he introduced himself at Gerry. I could tell that he didn't want anything from me, other than to share a few stories and perhaps impart some wisdom. "I know my time could be up at any moment" Gerry stated, not in fear, but in acceptance. "I think I had a heart attack a few days ago. I was running, and all of a sudden my heart started pounding, I felt weak, disoriented.... I was running in an alley, and I started waivering and stammering. The kids thought I was drunk.... I thought my time had come, but it settled down. I was like this... " Gerry staggered and slurred his speech to mimic how he felt when he had his attack. At that moment a couple of cars drove past as the left turn signal came on. I was aware of how the people in the cars probably thought I was standing on a corner talking to a drunk, not someone sober describing his symptoms. How easy it is to make incorrect assumptions, I thought.

“I'm Ok now” Gerry continued, “but its made me think you know, I've lived here most of my life, except when I was married you know. I live in a rooming house now, and come out and try to help people. I just have my pension, but sometimes I'll see someone who needs help and I'll give him a dollar or two. I've gotten pretty good at knowing who's using it for food and who's using it for drink! Now don't get me wrong Mark, I'm not an angel. I've done some things I regret! But I am trying to be a good person."

His mood changed suddenly as he said, "Mark, look into these eyes. I'm eighty years old, and I've learned a lot about life. I may be dead in a year, or a day. There are things I want to pass on." I inquired, "Do you have family Gerry?" "Well I do, sort of..."his voice trailed off. It was at that moment that I could sense his sense of remorse and loss, and a wish to do something better. He began telling me of his marriage, and his inability to provide for his wife and eight children. In a few moments, Gerry relived how he had married his teenage sweetheart, but with no work in the town that he lived, had to leave to find money for the family. But he missed his wife and kids so much that he kept returning to them, but leaving what work he could find, so he could be with the people he loved. His marriage failed, and he said "You know, I have a couple of kids, and yet I could be talking to one of them at any time and not even know it." "Can you get in touch with them?" I asked. It was the question he wanted to hear.

In Gerry's eyes I could see the fear of contacting his kids. Would they reject him? Did they want to hear from a father who hadn't been in touch for years? Suddenly Gerry burst into the words of Shakespeare. "All the worlds a stage, mark, perhaps we just go into the deep sleep. I hope there's more, Mark."  I replied, quoting something I had heard, "perhaps we learn that there is something far bigger and grander that what we experience here." The words seemed to be what Gerry needed to hear. A sense of calm came over him. He repeated "but I could be talking to anyone of my kids and not know it. I loved those kids! The sadness returned. "You know Mark, there are two types of hypocrites... those who don't know they are hypocrites, and those how know but don't do anything." Again the sense of confession appeared.

Gerry continued "the other day a man in a suit talked with me in a restaurant . He seemed sad. He couldn't find work. I was going to help him out with a few dollars, but I though he doesn't need help because he looks rich. I realize he needed help. I wish I had helped him. It is community that's important Mark, helping each other. I'm a hypocrite, Mark." For a moment I was speechless, then some words to describe Gerry came to mind. I said "I think there are three types of hypocrites, not two, Gerry. The third knows he's a hypocrite, but does try to change, and forgives himself, because he recognizes that change often comes slowly!" I could see in Gerry's eyes that he was processing what I had said, and all of a sudden he seemed to relax in a deep soul manner.

"You know Mark, its not often that I talk to people like this. But I want to pass on some of the knowledge I've gained.. I know I don't have much time left, so I'm telling people some of the lessons I've learned. Hopefully you can carry them forward for me." I said to Gerry, "Maybe its time to call your kids...". His eyes met mine. There was a deep fear, but a deep reckoning of the truth in his silence. He said "You know Mark, I've been thinking of calling them but I've been too scared!.. Its time for me to get on the phone. Even if they hang up on me, I'll tell my kids I love them! Gerry continued "You know, I really believe that things happen for a purpose. I don't think it was just chance that we met. You're a good man Mark, I can tell you have a kind spirit. I'd be proud of you if you were my son."

With those words, Gerry continued on his way. I don't think he realized that he had given me a gift of words that I had never received from my own father. I don't know how Gerry's kids will react to his phone calls after so many years. There will be mixed emotions, perhaps anger, perhaps even rejection, but his kids will at least know that there father loved them. I found out after my father died how much he loved me. I wish he could have told me directly. Gerry's taking that step. Face the fear and tell your parents or children that you love them! Feel the fear and do it anyway.