Melissa's Gift

From Chapter 22, "Melissa’s Gift" by Olin Dodson

Perhaps in her heart of hearts Melissa felt something for me but fear prevented her from expressing it. Fear of her mom, maybe fear of vulnerability. Hell, it could have been a cultural thing. All my wondering about Melissa’s reasons for treating me like gum on her shoe never gave me a solid place to stand.

Not once had I considered that being a father would involve persuading Melissa to come running to me. With her damn near un-persuadable, I figured that my default course of action was to be true to my heart, regardless of her response. I needed to make my love so concrete, so obvious, so unwavering, that should Melissa suddenly pass away, she would leave this life knowing in her heart that her father had totally embraced her.

My getting no love in return was excruciating, but beside the point. I was her father. Her need trumped mine, the need to know she was loved by me. With time my direction became even clearer. All that counted was, as Helen had said, loving Melissa with all I had, relentlessly, like the surf pounding the shore.

Besides, I’d already received an embarrassment of gifts. A fiery, unconditional love for my child was a wondrous thing. It was accompanied by events which seemed other-worldly. How could it be that a “chance” encounter at the county fair with a co-worker from 10 years prior had led to my reunion with Melissa? How to explain the precognitive dreams? And the involvement of the perfect family to take on the task of finding me?

As if that wasn’t enough, my life had taken on a razor-sharp focus. I was no longer dabbling with life, like a cat batting a toy. Definition had arrived instantaneously when I knew that I had no choice but to fly to Costa Rica. A few friends disputed the point. “You are choosing to do what many men would not.” But there was nothing to argue. I was unable to resist the summons. Love had freed me from musty self-preoccupation and a calculating heart.

And finally, my early thrill about Melissa had been transformed into a commitment which would not be deterred. For forty-plus years I had somehow avoided the big challenges. When the United States Selective Service drafted me for Viet Nam in 1970, I’d resisted them for more than two years but when the war wound down, they gave up on me. There had been a scary melanoma in 1983, promptly removed, with no hard road to recovery.

My life had been lived on many sidelines. For Melissa, I ran repeatedly onto the field of contest and had my ass kicked every time. I looked into her future and saw life’s biggest ass-kicking in waiting. I kept running onto the field.

This was, perhaps, the greatest gift of all. How blessed I was to love.