healing

healing(Marcus Baumgarth) It was a warm summer morning when I was woken by my father. He gently woke me by calling out my name. I looked at the clock by my bed and stumbled from my warm sheets. I raced into the shower. The water was cool against my skin. After the shower I rushed to brush my teeth and put on my nice clothes. My father and I hopped into his car and headed down our sloped gravel driveway. I turned back to wave to my dog Sam who was following the car like he usually did. The car’s tires caught on the asphalt and accelerated leaving behind my white, fluffy dog who did the best he could to catch up to us. I turned back in my seat and looked at the trees that passed by. The trip only lasted a few moments, but these moments were filled with the uncomfortable feeling of new dress shoes.
I looked at my dad when we pulled into the parking lot. His face was shaved but he still looked like a broken man; his eyes looked glassy and red, and he had bags under them. His posture was off, his back bent forward making him looked depressed and ready to fall apart. He looked like someone with no true purpose, only the weight of everything keeping him from leaving. He'd been that way for three months, ever since my mom left with my brother and sister. I looked down at the ground and then back to him. I didn't understand at the time but I understand now what had happened. He looked at me and forced a half-smile as we entered the church. I’d been to church a few times before and this day seemed no different; the preacher preached, people sang, and wine was passed around. We all rose for a quick prayer. The preacher signaled for everyone to remain standing as he spoke.
“Okay everyone, I did some preaching, now we need some healing. If there's anyone out there who just needs to be blessed, whether you're sick, or just going through a rough patch, please just come up here and we'll pray for you.” The crowd was silent and only a few headed up to the front and they were reluctant. My father turned to me.
“What?” he said, so I look around but everyone was staring straight ahead. I was unsure of who he was talking to. “ Did you want something?” he asked me. I just shook my head. “Do you think I need to go up there?” he said with discontent in his voice as anger flared in his eyes. It was only a second later before he faced forward again, and then back to me. That time there was no longer any anger, only sorrow. “Did you want to go to?” he asked me; I remember the thought crossing my mind but I just shook my head. He lingered for only a few more seconds with a look of uncertainty on his face. He walked up a broken man with almost nothing, but came back someone who now looked at the world. There was still sorrow on his face but for the first time in a long time he looked at peace, not happy but at peace, like he finally realized everything was going to be alright.