The Watch From Daddy...Father's Day Memories

When I was about 5 years old, I got an idea in my head that my father was going to mail me a gold watch. Mama and Daddy had been  divorced since I was born.  He was working in construction somewhere out West. The chance of him sending me a watch were slim to none. The chance of him knowing I wanted a watch were nonexistent.

 When I would ask questions about Daddy, my mother would say, "Honey, he is away working. He can't come home right now." Apparently that satisfied me until the next time I became curious.  There would be long 'spells' when no one knew where Daddy was living. Then like magic, Daddy would drive up and surprise me with a visit. He would stay with Mama Pearl and Papa John, his parents who lived out in the country. I always stayed with them when he came in to visit. I loved those visits, and I loved Daddy very much. I will forever be grateful that Mama allowed me to love Daddy. She could have easily kept me from loving him, but she didn't. She never talked bad about Daddy in front of me. Mama knew how to keep a secret. I would be in my 60's before I knew the whole story and I wouldn't swear I know it all now.  I also did not learn any of it from her. I do know she loved him too... she always did.

 When it came to the watch,  it did not  make any difference to me that I had not seen or actually talked to Daddy in over a year. I knew he was mailing me a gold watch...I just knew it.  When I told Mama she was surprised to learn I wanted a watch. I had never mentioned wanting one to her.   I was 5 years old and could not tell time. It would be years before I learned how to do this. All the hoopla about the watch  was news to her and did not seem important until I started praying for the watch and checking the mail daily.

 I remember she asked me all sorts of questions about this 'watch' that I would be receiving in the mail. I knew exactly what kind of watch Daddy was sending me because he described it to me. This news really bothered Mama. She had already experienced my year with my 'imaginary friend Billy'.  Then I ran around with Jesus for awhile and Mamamae was sure I was going to die. When I started talking about the watch and Daddy I think Mama, Mamamae and Granddaddy all got nervous. None of them wanted an invisible 'Daddy' moving into their home...especially Granddaddy.

Each night before I went to bed, I said my prayers.  Apparently this was a good time for me to describe this gold watch in great detail to Jesus and Mama. They both knew I wanted it to have an elastic gold band so it wouldn't fall off my arm. It had to be gold and have all the numbers, that I could not read, written in black on the face of the watch. I would 'remind' Jesus... Daddy said the watch was in the mail and I would get it soon.

The saga of the gold watch and me went on for several weeks. Finally one day my watch came in the mail.  Everyone was shocked except me. I knew it was coming. It was everything Daddy told me it would be. 

Years later, Mama, Daddy and I were sitting around telling stories and someone mentioned the watch. I remember asking Mama if she bought the watch and pretended to mail it to me. She said "No, I was going to do that if you didn't drop the subject but then the watch came in the mail."  I asked Daddy how he knew to send me the watch since we hadn't talked, except in my imagination. He said that he didn't  remember how that came about.  He  knew he was in Tulsa working and one Saturday night he walked by a jewelry store and thought, "I bet Vicky would like a watch." He went in and bought it, mailing it the following  Monday.

Daddy and I had a very strange relationship. When it was good it was 'very, very good and when it was bad it was horrid,' very similar to the old nursery rhyme.

 As a child,  I gave Granddaddy a shirt for Father's Day.  When Tommy and I married, Father's Day became his day.  That is the one day that never really belonged to Daddy. We celebrated it but in my mind it was never his day. Last Sunday was almost half over before I could shake the feeling of loss. Eventually it all came together in my mind. Finally, he was with Mama. He was where he was supposed to be,  knowing that fact was at last enough for me. Hopefully, next year I will not dread the third Sunday in June. It is time I laid the past to rest, remembering the good times and letting the rest go. I think that might be the best Father's Day present I could give to each of us.