The Greatest Man I Never Knew
by AJ
Notes: The song "The Greatest Man I Never Knew" belongs to Reba McEntire. The
West Wing belongs to Aaron Sorkin. I only wish I was half as good as either
of them. Props to Becky who read this for me to make sure it made sense.
And to Gidget and Deanna for letting me bounce the idea off of them.
Spoilers: None, other than the title.
The greatest man I never knew
Lived just down the hall
And everyday we said hello
But never touched at all
He was in his paper
I was in my room
How was I to know he thought I hung the moon
When one thinks about the word 'Family,' thoughts of closeness usually
spring to mind. But for some, that isn't always the case. . . Some families
may live close together, but in any possible definition of the word, that is
the only way that they are close. For Abigail Carter, that's how it was.
Abbey's father was a quiet man. He loved to sit down on his old
broken in chair that he'd had for years and years that was molded to fit him
perfectly, turn the television on at a quiet buzz, and read his newspaper.
Every day, that's what he would do when he came home from work. And,
especially Sundays, his only true day off of work.
The greatest man I never knew
Came home late every night
He never had too much to say
Too much was on his mind
I never really knew him
And now it seems so sad
Everything he gave to us took all he had
Abbey spent many times in her room contemplating many different
things. She was a typical teen in the most basic sense. She loved to shop
and hang out with friends. She loved to talk on the telephone, and she hated
doing homework. But, one thing that tipped the balance and made her slightly
off normal was her thoughts when she was in her room.
Mostly, Abbey would spend her time to herself thinking about her
father. The man that she calls 'Daddy' never really says much of anything to
anyone. Abbey would try to figure out why that was. She knew he had to have
lots of things to say, his job definitely would have provided many a topic
for conversation. But, he never implemented them into any discussion. And
so Abbey was distanced even further from her father. More so than most
teens, who are just distant because they are in that phase.
Then the days turned into years
And the memories to black and white
He grew cold like an old winter wind
Blowing across my life
When Abbey graduated from high school, she went right off to college
where she got lost in the fast pace crowd that has been called society. At
first, she would go home every weekend to see her parents and her little
brother, but as life would have it, Abbey began to change. Her entire
priorities changed, and she was no longer focusing on the family she was
raised in, but in searching for a family to raise.
As the visits began to wind down, so did the telephone calls, and soon
after, the letters. She somehow managed to fit it into her schedule to call
home two or three times a year, and write just as frequent as that. She'd
send pictures in with her letters. Pictures of her and Jed. And, soon of
her children. Abbey's mother, would in kind, send letters with pictures of
herself and Abbey's father. And, for years, this is how she communicated
with her family, with the occasional trip home.
The greatest words I never heard
I guess I'll never hear
The man I thought could never die
S'been dead almost a year
The day that Abbey got word of her father's passing on was a sad cold
day in her life. One that she tends to not like to remember very often. She
had been at work for a twelve hour shift in the emergency room, and gotten
home very early in the morning, wanting nothing more than sleep. Sleep is
what she wanted, the news of the death of her father is what she got.
When Abbey stepped into her house and found Jed waiting for her,
instead of at his office she knew something wasn't right. When she observed
the tears that had fallen from his eyes, she knew that it wasn't good. She
kept her distance from him, not sure if she wanted to hear what he had to
tell her. And when the words did come out of his mouth, Abbey just collapsed.
She had always wanted to be close to her father, but it just never
happened. When she was a teen, it was due to the typical teen attitude that
parents are just blatantly wrong. As a young adult, she let herself be swept
up in an age with such advances in transportation, she moved far away, and
slowly the lines of communication withered down to almost nothing at all.
Now that she was an adult, she regretted those times she let a relationship
with her father pass her by. She wanted to try to fix that, but it was too
late: He'd passed already.
He was good at business
But there was business left to do
He never said he loved me
Guess he thought I knew
After her father moved on to the green pastures, Abbey was the one
that had to finalize everything. He had made it easy, by being a very
organized man, but she still had to do it. Things such as funeral plans, his
will, and of course, packing his life away into boxes. It took her a very
long time to get through packing his things away, for everything in the house
held a plethora of memories for her. Some of the memories were good, some
not so good. But, most of them represented a chance passed. That's why it
took her so long. She had to come to terms with the fact that she couldn't
even remember telling her father that she loved him, or hearing that he loved
her.
'I love you' would have been so easy to say. Three simple words, each
one syllable long. Little kids are able to say those three words, yet Abbey
and her father were never able to say them to each other. But, just because
they didn't say them to each other, doesn't mean that they did not feel love
for one another. Perhaps her father never said the words to her, because he
thought it was better to show her in providing for her the best he knew how.
Perhaps he never thought it was the right time. And the same could go for
Abbey.
As Abbey packed up the last of her father's belongings into the
cardboard box, she came across something. . . an old hand written letter.
With great curiosity, Abbey carefully unfolded the piece of paper and began
to read the contents.
Dear Abigail,
I was sitting here on Sunday afternoon, having just finished reading
an article in my paper. The article was about families, and how many a time,
they let their feelings go unknown to their loved ones. That got me to
thinking that although I've showed you time and again, I have never said
those words to you.
Abbey, you are my only daughter, my little princess. I've enjoyed
watching you grow up. I remember fondly a time when you would dance around
the living room in your ballerina costume and pretend that you were famous.
I remember such times as your first boyfriend, your first date, your first
time driving (I'm still keeping that rule about never stepping into a vehicle
with you behind the wheel again, by the way). I remember your first day of
high school, the day you graduated, when you went off to college. I remember
the day that you brought home Jed (I still refuse to admit I like him). I
can't help but to smile about the day you gave me my first granddaughter, and
the second, and third. I've watched you grow into such a beautiful woman, a
wonderful doctor, a great person. I've enjoyed the ride immensely, and would
not trade it for anything else on this Earth.
I love you, Abigail. I love you with all my heart. And I am so very
proud of you. I hope you realize that I've always loved you. And no matter
if I am still alive on this earth or not, I will continue to love you until
forever.
Love,
Dad.
By the time that Abbey had reached the end of the letter, the tears
were flowing freely from her eyes. Everything that she had ever longed to
hear from her father, she just read. The emotions that were in that letter.
. . the words he wrote. . . So unlike the man she thought she had known. The
man who never said much of anything. So much like the man she wanted to
know, but never will.
She folded the letter back up neatly and tucked it into her purse as
she taped up the last box and set it aside. Then, she moved to stand in the
doorway and looked in at the empty house she grew up in. With tears still
falling from her eyes, she softly whispered, "I love you, too, Daddy," and
left.
The End