Viewing post #505633 by Sharon
|I was barely 3 and he scared me to death. He was thin and frail and fragile, beard covered his face. He had been taken to Oklahoma and from there he traveled by train to Kentucky. It was a long trip and communication was sparse at the time, so we knew he was on his way home but didn't know when he'd arrive. I was downstairs at my grandparents home where Mom and I lived. I didn't know he was there. He started at the top of the stairs calling my name, and when I looked up from down below, I remember seeing a strange frail man coming downstairs toward me. He picked me up and I started crying, screaming actually, because he looked nothing like the picture that sat on our mantle. I'd never heard his voice, and he was hoarse, gruff. Scared me to death. I didn't know who he was.
I remember thinking that they'd sent the wrong man to me.
I still remember all of that, and it was not a moment of bonding with my father. It took me a long time to get over that moment. Him too.