My father had been my best friend, and losing him had devastated me enough to never be fully over it, but I’d still welcome the memories that would hit me at random moments. They’d snuck in when I’d taught my daughter how to tie her shoes like he’d patiently shown me, or when a young son and father at the stadium reminded me of us at all those Yankees games.
They’d hurt at first, but they were gifts, immortal pieces of the man who would always be painful to miss.
Bennie had none of that. She had been spared the pain of losing her mother but was also cheated of the joy of remembering her.
It both relieved and infuriated me.
After I scrubbed down the kitchen, I made my way into the living room and was about to take a seat on the couch when I heard Bennie’s laugh waft down the stairs. I climbed the steps halfway, trying to hear what was so funny without being seen.
“I have a whole bunch of hair stuff that I don’t use,” I heard Stella say. “A lot of clips and headbands that you could use for your other customers.”
“I don’t have any customers,” Bennie said, her voice dipping low and sad. “Daddy will let me, but it’s not the same.”
“Well, you can work on me anytime,” Stella said. “This was a lot of fun. Can I come back again?”
“Yes! How many years have you known Daddy?”
“Hmm, almost twenty, I think.”
“Wow, that’s a really long time. I’ve only known him for seven years.”
I smiled at the awe in my daughter’s voice.
“What was Daddy like?”
I laughed to myself, bracing for what embarrassing history Stella would bring out for my daughter, but she was silent for a good minute.
“Your dad was always the best. Kind and funny, just like he is now.”
“Where did you meet him? In school?”
“No, it was a group. A special one that met after school.”
“Oh, like when you get into trouble and have to stay?”
“No.” Stella chuckled. “Everyone in the group came to help one another.”
“Even if they didn’t know you?”
“Well, I guess the point of the group was to get to know everyone. I was too scared at first, but your dad was the one who helped me speak for the first time.”
“What did he do?”
“He didn’t do anything but look at me. You know how someone looks at you like they really want to know what you have to say, like they’re listening to you?”
“Yes, my teacher tells me she can tell when I’m not paying attention because I look a lot of miles away. So like the opposite of that?”
“Yes.” Stella laughed. “Exactly like that. He made me feel like it was okay to say what I wanted. I was scared to feel any bad feelings, but he made me brave. I came to thegroup because I was sad, but after that day, I started to feel a lot better.”
“Oh,” Bennie said as the sound of her drawer snapping shut startled me.
I remembered those days with vivid clarity. My father’s death had hung over me like a suffocating cloud. I’d been afraid to let out the bad feelings too, not wanting to upset my own family any more than they were. My friends had regarded me like I was a bomb ready to explode or collapse, and I’d been close by the time I’d strolled into that group.
Meeting Gary and Stella had helped me learn how to breathe again.
“Want to know something funny?” Stella asked Bennie. “I don’t even remember what I said. Sometimes you remember a feeling more than words or what actually happened.”
“Like when my teacher told us that when you love a book, you may forget what it’s about but always remember how it made you feel.”
