"Good Night, Dad" [sad story] *~*AngeldoLL*~*

"You afraid of heights?" my dad asked, as I climbed up the seemingly unstable ladder to the second- story rooftop. I was up there to help him fix ourTV antenna. "Not yet," I replied, as he climbed up after me with tools in hand. I didn't have much to do up there on the roof - mostly I just helf the antenna still and handed my dad tools - so I began to talk to him as he worked. I could always talk to my dad. He was more like a big kid than an actual adult. In fact, he looked much younger than his forty- one years. He had straight black hair and a mustache, with no signs of graying or balding. He stood at a strong six feet and had dark green eyes that seemed to always be laughing at some secret joke. Even my friends, whom he'd make fun of without mercy, loved him. Most of my peers would be embarrassed to have their dad hang around with them, but not me; in fact, I took great pride in him. No one else had a dad as cool as mine.

After he finished working on the antenna, we went inside, and I began to get ready for bed. As I entered my room, I looked over and saw my dad working intently at his computer in his office, which was adjacent to my bedroom. As I watched him, I had the most incredible urge to just poke my head in and tell him that I loved him. I quickly brushed the urge away and continued on into my room. I couldn't possibly say to him "I love you", I hadn't said that to him or anyone else since I was seven, when my mom and dad would come and tuck me in and kiss me good night. It just wasn't something a man said to another man. Still, as I walked in and closed my bedroom door behind me, the feeling continued to grow inside of me. I turned around, opened my door and poked my head into my dad's office. "Dad," I said softly. "Yes?" "Um..." I could feel my heartbeat rising. "Uh...I just wanted to say...good night."

"Good night," he said, and I went back to my room and shut the door.

'Why didn't I say it? What was I afraid of?' I consoled muself by saying that maybe I'd have the courage to say it later; but even as I told myself that, I knew it might never happen. For some reason I felt that was going to be the closest I'd ever come to telling my dad I loved him, and it made me frustrated and angry with myself. Deep within, me, I began to hope he'd know that when I said "Good night," I really meant to say "I love you".

The next day seemed like any other. After school, I began to walk with my best friend to his house, as I frequently do; however, his mom suprised us by picking us up in the parking lot. She asked me whose house I was going to, and when I said "Yours," she paused and said, "No, I have a feeling your mom probably wants you home right now." I didn't suspect anything; I figured she had something she wanted to do with her own family, and so I shouldn't butt in.

As we pulled up to my house, I noticed a lot of cars in front and quite a few people I knew walking up our front steps.

My mom greeted me at the front door. Her face was streaming with tears. She then told me, in the calmest voice she could manage, the worst news of my life. "Dad's dead."

At first, I just stoof there as she hugged me, unable to move or react. In my mind, I kept repeating 'Oh God , no; this can't be true! Please...' but I knew that I wasn't being lied to. I felt the tears begin to run down mu face as I quickly hugges some of the people who came over, and then I went upstairs to my bedroom.

As I got into my bedroom, I looked over into my dad's office. 'Why didn't I say it?!!' That was when I heard my little three- year- old brother ask, "Mommy, why is my brother crying?"

"He's just feeling a bit tired, honey," I heard my mom tell him as I closed my bedroom door behind me. She hadn't told him yet that Daddy wouldn't be coming home from work again.

Once in my room, I hurt so badly that my body went numb and I collapsed on the floor, sobbing. A few moments later, I heard a scream from downstairs and then my baby brother's voice crying out, "Why, Mommy?!" My mom had just told him what had happened. A few seconds later, she came into my room and handed my crying baby brother to me. She told me to answer his questions while she stayed downstairs to greet people who came over. For the next half hour I tried to explain to him why Heavenly Father wanted our dad back with him, while I simultaneously tried to pull myself back together.

I was told that my father had died in an accident at work. He worked in construction and somehow, he had been knocked off the crane he was inspecting. Some workers nearby said they didn't hear him shout or anything, but had run over to him when they heard him land. He was pronounced dead on arrival around eleven o'clock that morning, April 21, 1993.

I never really told my dad I loved him. I wish I had. I miss him very much. When I see him again after this life, I know that the first thing I'm going to say to him is "I love you." Until then, "Good night, Dad."

*~*AngeldoLL*~*

p.s. I didn't write this story, so if anyone has heard it before i'm not taking the credit for writing it so please dont chew me out! :) this story touched my heart; I hope it touches your's too.

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