The year was 1943. I was 15 and a student at St. Michael Roman Catholic School. I was a good student although I really didn’t care for school.

One day Father Sheridan entered our classroom and spoke quietly to our teacher.

“Mary! Mary Therese! Come here quickly, child!” Sister Mary Kevin called out.

“Yes Sister! Coming!” I replied as I raced toward the front of the room.

I silently worried about what it was that I’d done wrong but could think of nothing. My mind was a blank.

I searched their faces for a clue but found none. Both adults looked at me with compassion and kindness.

“Yes, Sister?” I asked after reaching them both.

“Go with Father Sheridan, Mary.”

“Yes, come with me, child.” Father repeated softly.

“May I ask what this is all about Father?” I asked with as much reverence as I could muster.

“Your father is very ill and is at Hurley Hospital, child, I’ve come to take you to him.” He replied.

“Oh but Father, there must be some mistake…maybe you’re looking for my cousin Virginia, my father is at home!”

Father Sheridan stopped and faced me fully. His youth-full expression reflected one of great sorrow at having to carry this task out.

“Child, is your name not Mary Therese Bailey?”

“Yes, Father, it is but perhaps you’re looking for my cousin Virginia Bailey…her father has been quite ill for a long time now…” I silently hoped this was a mistake but somehow knew it wasn’t.

Father looked down at the highly polished floor before responding to my desperate plea.

“No my child, it is your father…Bert that is so ill. I am so sorry. Let me take you to him, both he and your mother are waiting for you…”

I lowered my head and quietly began to weep. My dad was dying. No one had to come out and say it, I knew.

As Father Sheridan and I stepped out of the elevator I immediately saw my mom. When she saw me she averted her eyes. I was too late dad was gone. Again I knew.

I stopped and began to cry uncontrollably but silently. Mom ran to me and held me tightly.

“I am so sorry Mary… he tried to wait for you…he loved you more than anything in the world…”

“Oh mom, what am I going to do without dad? How can I go on without him?” I sobbed.

“I’m sorry, mom, I’m being selfish…I know dad’s in a much better place and he’s at peace now.” My heart was breaking. I adored my dad. I was an only child and I meant the sun, moon and stars to him. I had always been daddy’s girl and now he was gone.

My mom worked hard to take care of all of us. She kept an outside job on top of caring for the house, dad, me and other family members that lived with us. She and dad were raising my cousin Joe whose mother had died and whose father turned to drinking terribly after her death. And mom was taking care of one of her sister’s who was mentally unbalanced and should’ve been put in an institution but mom didn’t have the heart to sign the papers. My poor dad had an extremely bad heart and uncontrollable high blood pressure. He tried to work but his heart couldn’t take it and he’d have to quit and come home to bed. I remember him bleeding through his nose into quart sized porcelain bowls until he filled them.

Now that I’m grown and am a registered nurse I understand that the bleeding was what saved his life because it lowered his blood pressure.

I cherish my memories of life with my dad and know that when my time on this earth is over we’ll be reunited forever.

I was right! There he is standing in the light with his arms reaching out to me!

I’m coming dad! … I’m coming! …