I have an idea....

I hear my father's heart in the brokenness of his words. He knew the words before his brain began to die. He spoke the words before his brain began to die. I hear my father's heart in the skips and starts, the stuttering frustrations of his voice. The voice that scolded and teased, that soothed and laughed, the voice that prayed gentle prayers and loving blessings. I hear my father's heart even when the words don't come. He tries to tell me that he's proud of me, that he's proud of my husband, that I've been a good daughter, a good wife, a good mother. I know this is what he's saying. Because I know my father's heart.

Hello-o? Hey Dad,this is Jane Ellen Oh, you're the one she said would call. Happy Father's Day! What? Oh yeah, I'm a pretty happy dad. .................. Let's see, there was something important about today, I needed to, hmmm. It's Father's Day! Oh yeah, father's day. Yeah I'm pretty happy. ........................................ I wish those people would stop pushing that stuff down into the lake. They think they're feeding the fish, I reckon. (No, Charles, that's scum.) Scum? Well, I guess it is. Why are they putting scum in pond? It grows there. It grows? Yes, Daddy, it grows in the water. ......................... There's a man that fishes down here sometimes. He brings this black man. Maybe they're the ones... Anyhow, he fishes, but I guess that's alright. The neighbors, hehehe, they might get to calling me a nigger-lover. Oh, oh, Dad, that's not a good thing to say. People don't say that anymore! (Charles, shhh, don...