THE MELTING TEARS

THE MELTING TEARS 

During one’s life, there are variations of moments which climax into the historical inventory of one’s own self. A storage of special events and deep emotions which generate into our personality. This is the journey of achievements and disappointments, of joy and sometimes tragedy. Of so much accumulation that life gives, is there one, just one event, that is most cherished? Is there that one extra special moment in one's life that is your most treasured of all—a magical moment when everything stands still, when the heart and soul become one, and the sprinkles of grace surround your being? 

For me, there has been many gifted moments, and moments of grace, which are very, very special. But there is one above all else—that stands by itself—which captivated the closeness of my inner self. The closeness of two hearts, which melted, in the presence of the Lord. 

My daughter Tracy was in her graduating year at Bay Path Junior College, located in Longmeadow, Massachusetts. They host a Father/Daughter Banquet for each graduating class—a dinner with dancing and entertainment. And October 26, 1985, was our time to be together: an evening to share with my daughter’s friends, and to enjoy the company of other family dads. This occasion was held at the Springfield Marriott ballroom. 

The corsage I had given Tracy, she proudly wore on her dinner dress; so proud was she—to have an evening with her dad. Her bright blond hair glowed and her smile highlighted her excitement. She looked so radiant, so grown up. 

This enjoyable evening passed quickly; the dinner and dancing were at its best, but moments of magic, awaited. Tracy and I were dancing, and the next song the band played, was “Three Times A Lady.” As we danced, I sang the words to her; and so it happened: her melting tears rolled down her face, wetting my cheek. The moment of compassion’s mist, fell slowly, so gently. Although she couldn’t say the words or didn’t know how, I felt them in my heart. As each tear rolled down her cheek, I knew each one said, “I love you dad. Thank you for everything. I love you.” No, this moment can never be duplicated: the moment my daughter changed, into womanhood—a woman of sensitivity, understanding, and depth; love in its purest form—the love of her father; growing up—casting off the daddy’s little girl image; the bud—to a blossom, in an instant. There it all was, melting, slowly being dissolved—the little story books, first grade, school plays, high school, school proms, first kiss, first love, college. It all sat there on the potter’s wheel—one by one being remolded and reshaped into adulthood. So much time gone by: 19 years of struggle, hurts, laughter and growing pains. And when everything else is set aside, the melting tears of a little girl, grew into tears of a lady—Three Times A Lady. When I think of this or hear that song, my eyes water and my heart flutters. Of anything in my life ever, nothing will ever be so precious as this moment of love with my daughter. This is the essence of family life—when all parenting efforts have been realized. 

Even so, when Tracy was married on September 1, 1990, the two of us dedicated that same song to each other. We danced once again to recapture that special moment—a moment that was not to be the same. We both knew, this was farewell: farewell for a new life, for a new love. From the cocoon, the butterfly formed her wings circling three times, and flew gently away—flying, settling down gently on another potter’s wheel, in another place. 

I think back in remembrance, as my melting tears in my heart melt once again. “I love you Tracy. Thank you for everything. I love you.” 

Robert J Varrick

rjvarrick@gmail.com