苏珊·福塞特/SusanFawcett
ReflexivelyIreachedtoturnonmycarradio, presettoKGBX, , Missouri, districtwidemusiccompetition, whereLizwouldbeplayingaflutesolo, .
“Dadsaidhemightcome,”'tbeenabigpartofherlifesinceourdivorce10yearsearlier, andshesoundedbothexcitedandscared.
Boy, didIknowthatfeeling-wantingtoimpressyourfatherandatthesametime, beingterrifiedoflettinghimdown?SuddenlyIwas12yearsoldagain, sittingonstageattheMinnesotastatemusiccompetition, , armsfolded, -rimmedglassesandfocusedunwaveringlyonme.
Icompletelychoked.I'dpracticedmycontestpieceformonthsuntilIknewitbyheart, .
Noconsolationcamefrommyfather, ', ', really, afterwhatI'ddone?, Ilethimdown.
Thefartherwedrove, .
BythetimeIcamealong, thelastoffivechildren, ', , , ', hiseyesclosed, tearsescapingfromthecornersasifI'dtransportedhimtosomemagical, heavenlyplace.
Dadneversaidawordtheentirewayhome, 'dmostwantedtomakeproud.I''dlostthekeytomyfather'sheart, andhediedbeforeIcouldfinditagain.
Whydidyouletmefailmyfather?I''tyouatleasthavegivenmeachancetomakeituptohim?“Mom, thisisit.”Mydaughter'.“Good, Ihavetimetowarmup.”Lizsaidaswewalkedintotheschool.
Inthepracticeroom, Liztookherfluteoutofitscase, , Igaveherahug.“Relax,”Isaid.“You'regoingtodogreat.”
