The Day My Father Cried

For three days after my sister eloped, he wouldn't talk. He would just sit quietly outside our house in the dark. On the fourth night, I sat beside him and asked him to tell me what he feels about everything.

It has been years since I have laid my hand on my father's shoulder as we have drifted farther and farther apart while I was growing up. That night though, I sensed my father trying to control his pain and I wanted him to be able to let it out. We have all cried over what happened except him. All of us except him.

The simple touch and my words, "Dad, it's not your fault" broke my father's dam. In the darkness, he began to cry. I felt his shoulders shaking as he whispered, "Where did I go wrong? All I ever wanted was for my children to grow up right. Why couldn't your sister wait?"

I understood then why he preferred to be in the dark. By being there, he hoped to spare his family of a father's pain. His tears, though we didn't see them before that night, were there all the same.

I saw his courage, that night when my father cried with my hand on his shoulder, and understood his pain.