A Father's Love

Shane Jones had been “the boy”. Good looking, athletic, great smile, with a dimple that made girls go weak in the knees. It is one thing to be good looking and humble, it was completely different to be good looking and know it- Shane was the latter. He graduated high school with big dreams and big plans, none of which concerned anyone but himself.

It had been two years since he had left home. Two years of endless hell. Yet after all this time not much had changed, except Shane was now $20,000 poorer and had grown a tail between his legs. Shane found himself in the one place he had refused to come back to. Home. Or at least where he once resided. Shane stood on the field that sat on the edge of the family property doubting if coming home was the right decision.

He thought he had known everything when he had left, but so does every other eighteen year old. He thought he would not need his family. And yet he found himself sitting on the ridge his father had thrown many a football with him and began to weep. Where did he get off at eighteen asking for his inheritance? And what did he go and do with it? $20,000 spent faster than an Olympian running a hundred meter dash on selling his soul and then watching others steal everything from him. He closed his eyes trying to breathe as his heart pounded within his chest. As he thought of his father Michael. Would he forgive him after all this time? Would he even speak to him? What about his brother Jack? They had never been close, but would he resent him after all this time?

Each foot step became heavier as the large oak door came more clearly into view.

“Thirty seconds of courage,” Shane thought, “all I need is thirty seconds to get my apology out and hopefully they won’t slam the door in my face.”

Shane took a raspy breath, and began to knock on the door that guarded the place he once called home.

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Michael was too good to be true. He was respected and admired by everyone. He was quiet yet strong. Without even trying he filled every room he walked into with a sense of safety. He was the man mothers prayed their daughters would marry and the man fathers would be proud to have in their family. Family was everything to him. It had only ever been Michael and his boys after his wife died giving birth to Shane.

Somewhere in his sons’ growing up years he lost them. There was no exact moment to pinpoint, but regardless, they had become like strangers to him- strangers he deeply loved, but did not know how to convince them of this truth.

Jack always did the right thing. He graduated college and began to take over the family business. Quickly Jack began to lose himself in work to his soul’s detriment. How could he teach his oldest son that there was more to life than doing the right thing? That life was meant to be joyful and adventurous filled with risks and impossibilities not simply mundane routine?

When Shane had graduated high school and asked for his inheritance to leave and chase his dreams, Michael was heartbroken, but gave into Shane's request. Michael hoped somewhere down the line Shane would come to understand that the things that matter most in life are often found in moments, people, and objects that could not be bought.

So each day for two years, Michael sat in his worn leather chair and waited. He diligently watched and prayed somehow and some way his son would find his way back to him-back home. He would stare at the field on the edge of his property, eyes brimming with tears of all the good moments between him and his boys. He began to wonder sometimes if they were simply dreams instead of distant memories time had faded the details of. Yet without fail, from the moment he woke up till he went to bed and often through the night, Michael sat and waited.

One afternoon as the sky danced blends of pink and red, a figure emerged in the distance. Michael squinted his eyes not ready to get his hopes up. The figure continued to trudge towards the house. Michael stood staring almost in disbelief. Shane. He was a shadow of his former self but underneath the grime, the worn out clothes, was his son. He raced for the door, speedily commanding his staff to make his son’s favorite meal and Shane’s room was just the way he had left it. Within seconds and a moment’s thought, Michael swung the front door open and pulled his son into a tight embrace. And before his son could react, Michael said two words that sent them both into tears of relief and joy, “Welcome home my son.”

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Jack was consistent. He always made the good choice, the right choice, the smart choice. He always played it safe. After graduating high school he began to help his father in the family business. As his younger brother tossed footballs and made cheerleaders swoon, Jack was leading board meetings and building a legacy.

Shane and Jack never really got along. Jack always cared too much and Shane never cared at all. Jack could not stand his brother’s charm or arrogance, it agitated him more than a bee at a summertime picnic. When his brother asked for his inheritance two years ago, Jack thought of Shane as good as dead.

Where did Shane get off thinking he could get away with something like that? And yet their father gave it to him. The thought of which still made Jack furious. Where was his reward? After all he had always been there taking care of things, where was his recognition? As the months after Shane's departure went on, Jack adjusted to a new way of life and he liked it. He enjoyed all too much being in charge and watching after the family business as their father patiently anticipated his prodigal son’s return.

Daily his father sat in his massive study that faced the field they once played in as boys anticipating his Shane’s return, Jack grew more frustrated with his father. It was time to move on. To make decisions, to write Shane out of the will, to give Jack all he rightly deserved.

After two years, Jack finally had worked up the courage to ask his father for his reward. As he made his way into the house through the kitchen he began to think of all the ways he could “humbly” ask for what he felt he deserved. He was prepared. He was ready. What he was not ready nor prepared for was the household staff frenzy he encountered in the kitchen. Housekeepers raced to the laundry room through the kitchen in search of fresh linens. The chef was quickly mixing and preparing fresh pancakes with homemade strawberry syrup, and fried eggs- one of Shane’s favorites. This made no sense, why all this hassle?

Then Jack heard the phrase he never thought he would hear, “Shane is home.” His heart plummeted. With bitterness building and resentment raging Jack barreled towards his father’s study.

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The air was thick in the room with Jack’s rage. Jack stood in his father’s office waiting for an explanation. How dare he allow Shane back in this home. After everything he has done. After the disgrace he brought upon this family. Shane had no idea of the damage he had caused this family. Where was he as Jack watched his father for two years stare out upon the ridge for Shane to come home?

As he sat there, thoughts racing, rage burning, and anger mounting, his father began to speak, “Your brother came home.”

“I can see that,” Jack replied sarcastically.

“Jack please-” Michael began to plead with him but Jack cut him off, “No. Not this time. I don’t understand how you can just let him waltz back into this home, our home. I have worked tirelessly to preserve this family and he has done nothing. He wasn’t there to witness you waiting for him for years, Dad. He did not witness your endless pacing in the house wondering if there was any way for you to get to him. He does not know the pain we experienced, that you experienced. I want him out. He does not deserve my forgiveness. He won’t ever.”

Jack did not even see his father’s knockout right hook coming.

Stammering back and clenching his jaw, Jack fell into the chair behind him.

“That is enough!” Michael clearly appalled at his son’s rage.

“He is your brother and he is my son. Do you understand? Do you see how hard it was for him to come home? The humbling he had to endure to be able to come back here? To know he would have to endure your shame? Do not put this on me. I am a grown man and capable of defending and protecting my family.”

Michael came around his desk to sit by his son, but Jack turned away blinking back the tears that were forcing their way onto his face as he frantically wiped them away.

“He may not deserve it but he is our family. I would like to believe that you, I and Shane are more than our gravest mistakes. The road to healing is difficult but it is worth it. Tomorrow will have its own worries and difficulties.. And we will do this together just as we have always done. Jack it is time to let things go, to accept that sometimes people will hurt you and you cannot control it, but it does not mean they do not deserve our forgiveness. You are my son and I love you, everything I have is yours, but it is time to welcome your brother home.”

Michael cradled his son’s face in the palms of his hands and said with a quiet assurance, “I love you son.”

And as Michael embraced Jack he prayed that somewhere within his son that Michael could find it within him to forgive his younger brother.

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Shane stood in his room stunned at its familiarity. Nothing was out of place. Every trophy, medal, picture, poster had remained untouched in perfect condition. He went to his closet and found all his clothes just as he had left them- but something at the bottom of the closet caught his eye.

He rummaged under shoes and old papers from high school when he stopped dead in his tracks. There sitting beneath the mess was the box his father gave him before he left, unopened and untouched. Bracing himself he opened the box.

A black notebook was the only thing inside and within it was a handwritten letter from his father.

“My son,

As you embark on this journey of what you believe you know, I hope and pray that you come to see that what will never change is a father’s love for his son. I believe in you. I am proud of you. No matter what happens, know that home will always be here waiting for you. Nothing you do and no amount of money will ever change that. I love you son.”

Tears shed onto the small spiral bound pages. As Shane clutched the handwritings of his father, he grappled with all that he had loved, lost and learned. Yet even in the midst of the regret, one thing remained- His father’s love. No amount of money, fame, or fortune could fill the space of his father within his heart. Although he may not have understood two years ago, he knew now no matter what- the love his father had for him would always be enough.