Surprise Visits Bring Happiness

In 1981, I went to Camp Milbrook, the Larry Bird sleepaway basketball camp in Massachusetts for a month. I loved basketball. I loved Larry Bird. I hated the camp. The kids were mean, we mostly did gymnastics, and we only got to meet Larry once.

One day, more than halfway into my stay, I was walking alone, back to my barrack, when I saw what looked like the front of my dad’s car. I’d recognize the nose of that Peugeot anywhere. Was it a mirage? No. It was him! He had stopped on his way home to Cape Cod from court in Boston, taking the chance at possibly seeing me. I ran to his car, my legs pumping fast, my arms spread wide. I leapt the last few feet and landed into his waiting arms.

“Are you here to take me home?” I asked, tears filling my eyes.

“No, sweetheart.” He put me back down on the ground. “But you’ve only got eight more days. You can do it.” Even though the visit lasted only a few minutes, I’d never been happier in my life.

Fast forward almost 40 years.

My mom and I drove up to the Spaulding Rehabilitation Hospital Cape Cod in Sandwich, parked in the vast lot, and walked toward the entrance, scanning every window on the second floor. Which one was it? Then a tap on the glass. My eyes zoomed around until they landed on a nurse, her face covered with a mask. She waved us over. A few seconds went by and then my dad appeared! We waved. He waved. We blew kisses. He blew kisses. We gestured from our hearts, and he did too. The visit lasted only a few minutes. How much can you say between glass? Before we turned to walk back to our car, I held up my hand, fingers splayed. “Only five more days, dad.” I mouthed. “You can do it.” He nodded and gave the thumbs up. He was happy to see us. I knew exactly how he felt.

Stay safe.

Felice

https://felicecohen.com