Passing

My world began to unravel with a call that sent the wall phone clanging to the ground. My mother had waited by my aunt’s phone for an important call from New Mexico. By dad, Julian Bennett, and my uncle, Bob Williams, had gone there in my dad’s big truck to pick up a load of potatoes. My mom and I had been summoned to aunt Margie’s house to wait for the worrisome call.

It seemed like forever as we waited. Even though I was only eight I knew something was wrong. My dad had heart problems and had already had seven heart attacks. As time drug on she telegraphed her anxiety through tear filled eyes.

Then the phone rang. It startled all of us…strange, because we were waiting for that very moment. The phone was handed to my mom and she was silent as the party on the other end talked. It was my uncle Bob. In his soft voice but rough manner he threw out the words, “Julian is dead!” Mom dropped the phone and it clanged to the ground and hit the wall with a thud as its tightly stretched cord retracted. Mom heaved a great sigh and yelled, “No!” She began to sob uncontrollably. I didn’t know what was going on but ran to her and threw my arms around her waist and began to cry too. I didn’t know why I was crying but it seemed to be the right thing to do. My mom was hurting and I wanted to comfort her.

Within minutes things began to buzz in the house and people were coming and going…hugging my mom and me. They kept telling us how sorry they were for our loss. I still did not know what was going on. I asked my mom what had happened. Through a flood of tears she exclaimed, “Baby, your daddy is gone.” (My mom still calls me Baby to this day.) But I still did not understand. Someone finally explained my dad would not be coming back home because he had died.

I stopped crying because a new problem had arisen for me. My mom was being comforted by others. But I really did not comprehend what it meant when your dad died. I did not embrace that he was never coming home again. I would never hear his laughter again. Never again would he rub me on the head or reward me for being funny or mischievous. My daddy was gone for ever but I couldn’t accept it.

A couple of days went by as dad’s body was brought back to Wichita Falls for burial. During that time I tried figure out what was going on. My dad had often pulled pranks on me and others and I began to think maybe this was just some elaborate ruse. That he was going to come through the door at anytime and surprise us all and laugh at us for crying and making such a big deal out of nothing.

At his viewing I asked my mom if I could kiss my daddy goodbye. I think someone pulled up a chair so I could look in the coffin at his carefully preserved body. I gazed intently at him…his face…his hands…his chest. I thought I saw his chest move as he pulled air into his lungs…I was right…he was not dead…but I was not going to tell anyone. That would not make dad happy for me to spoil his prank. Then I looked back up at his face. It looked like he was smiling more than he had before. I kissed him gently on the cheek. It was unusually cool to my lips. I expected him to snicker…but he held it in.

After that day I did not cry anymore for a long time. I didn’t think he was dead. For years I struggled with his death because I could not accept the finality of his passing. Even as a young adult I would see him on the streets and walk up to him to show him how much I had grown up only to discover it was not him.

Now as a grown man with seven children of my own I cry over the loss of my dad nearly 50 years ago. I have asked God so many times, “Why did my daddy have to die?” I still do not have any answers but I have this hope in Christ that I will see him someday in eternity.

I have learned from my own dad’s passing that not everyone handles death the same way. There is not a proper way to grieve. Adults should not be afraid of exposing children to death and grief. Tears seem to mysteriously resolve many painful issues. Spending time with and loving your family now is of utmost importance because you never know when you or they will pass from this life to the next.