Love, Blessing and Walt--My Second Daddy

I left dinner with close women clergy colleagues feeling uplifted. As I got in the car I noticed I  had a voice mail from Walt. "Kaaatherine," I heard his souther drawl say, "I'm going to have to cancel lunch tomorrow. I'm at Baptist East and probably won't go home."  Now anyone who knows Walt knows that nothing he says or does is unintentional; he doesn't let anything "slip" and he notices everything--he was telling me he was there for a reason. Heck, I didn't care what the reason was, this was Walt and wild horses wouldn't keep me away.  I called him and said, "I'm on my way." hanging up as he began telling me I didn't have to come. This was my second Daddy....

I'm not sure when it happened, but over the past few years Walt has become my second Daddy.  To be clear, I have a daddy I adore and he has a daughter he adores.  (Although, and this shouldn't be a surprise, I have worried extensively that his daughter would feel like I was trying to take over--but that's an issue for my therapist and me.) Neither my daddy or his daughter live in Louisville, so I guess you could say we found each other--our families found each other.

Lee

I'm not even sure when "it" happened, but it did. When Chris traveled and something was wrong with a car or advice was needed that a person with more estrogen than testosterone couldn't give, I frequently heard, "I'm just going to call Walt." We began spending holidays together (again more
worry from me about how his daughter would feel; I didn't worry about his son; he was often with us. In fact, both boys now call Lee for life advice---oh dear God help us....) However it happened, we became family as seamlessly and as naturally as though we had been a part of each other's lives forever.

I guess it was solidified one night this winter. As usual Walt and Andrea were at opening night of Caroline's play. Walt and Andrea show up for everything--games, performances, dates (that is a little more complicated for the children). Following this particular performance Caroline went to introduce them to a friend; without a pause she said, "These are my grandparents." And it was settled. They have another set of grandparents to be loved by and to love--unconditionally.

They're house has become my home and it's where I go for comfort, for laughter, for advice, for love. When I knew I had to resign from my job I called Chris who was out of town and then I headed straight there where I sat, cried and told them everything. Truthfully, over the last year I have spent many evenings in that same spot crying (again, issues for my therapist) and also many days and evenings laughing and being unconditionally loved.

We segregate by sex

And so I called Chris told him what I was doing and took off for the hospital promising to keep them informed. Everyone was worried--this was "our" Walt.

I walked into the waiting room and found him sitting alone. "Thank God I came," I thought, "I forgot Andrea was out of town." I sat next to him and there I remained for the six hours as we waited--yes you read that right SIX HOURS!!!  We talked some; we were silent some; and I watched his hands shake while he tried to pretend he wasn't in excruciating pain. I also watched him "be Walt" engaging with others waiting, showing compassion, showing empathy and making every person he spoke to or made eye contact with feel cared about just because they were a human being.

Really they're just too much to deal with

We were finally called back and a diagnosis was made--not of course before Walt knew the name and life story of every person that came in the room. I feel certain there are many employees who went home that day and said, "I've met my favorite patient of all time." Surgery was needed...

We were put in a room and as the nurse began doing the intake Walt said, 'This is my daughter; she's not listed in contacts but you tell her everything." Allie (see we know everyone's name--she commutes in from Frankfort but will move once her daughter who is a rising senior graduates and heads to Western where her brother already is) wrote out the instructions, Walt signed them and it was settled. (Now this probably became more confusing for Allie when at one point after many hours she said to me, "You can go home and get some sleep; we'll call you." and I responded, "I'm not leaving until his daughter gets here"...we like to keep people guessing....)

Anyway, Walt FINALLY called family. In true Walt fashion he down played everything telling them
not to come, but his daughter asked to speak to me and I told her everything I knew; she said she was booking a flight and would be there that evening. As we hung up she said, "I love you." I breathed a sigh of relief responded, "love you too" and with that a therapy issue is off the table. (sorry Becky...)

We settled in to wait--when SK stopped by on her way back to UVA Walt promised her he'd be out to see her before she left for Dublin on Tuesday. "But Walt," she said, "You've got to be there Saturday night for Caroline's prom." "Oh don't worry," he replied, "Even if I'm not discharged, I'll sneak out of here to come see her and then sneak back in." The boys stopped by individually (okay William skipped school to come--sorry LCS, but this is Walt and he did go back) where through a drug induced haze he lectured them both on life. Chris came and went and came again and all the while we waited....

Twenty one hours after arriving we were taken up to pre-op. I sat next to Walt as he began to be more and more out of it; my hands were resting on the side rail of the bed. If I'm honest, that's when I really started to be scared. I knew he was in good hands; I knew it wasn't a "big" deal surgery, but I knew I didn't want to lose Walt. I need Walt; my family needs Walt; the world needs Walt.

In his sleep he reached over and laid his extra large loving, comforting hands on mine. The nurse told us it would be five minutes before I had to leave. My mind began racing as I tried not to cry--what do I say? What do I do? Do I take on the roll of priest? There was no one else there--or do I not? What is my roll?  Who am I? (lack of sleep exacerbates even the typical frenzy of my mind)

Suddenly a calm came over me, as the nurse said "it's time to go" I stood, made the sign of the cross on his forehead, kissed the center of the cross and said, "I love you. See you soon." And I knew; it wasn't about being one or the other--it was about being me--priest, daughter, friend.  It was about being authentic, just the way Walt always is. It was about and is about love AND blessing.

As I waited in the waiting room during the surgery I remembered the words my dear friend The Rev. Tim Mitchell said to me when before I was ordained I panicked after he asked me to join a circle of priests who were laying their hands on one another, blessing one another--I didn't want to break "the rules." Tim said, "Katherine, I believe we are all capable of blessing one another, and I don't think we bless each other enough. Maybe the world would be different if we did."

I think Walt is a living example of that...

Despite the look on his face, he does love me