Fatherless: Life Without Knowing Who

By Camberlynn West

Her life wasn't easy, by any stretch of the imagination. Through trials and tribulations, her father was always in her corner, though she never knew it. A multitude of sins and false beliefs prevented her from not only believing in her earthly father, but also barred the way to salvation. Elementary school, Junior and Senior High School, and College were all adventures culminating in a life that turned bitter. She found success after success in business but committed some grievous acts to keep her way of life. Behind the scenes, her father did everything he could to smooth the way. God often surrounds us with examples from people who know HIM. So it was with Genevieve. If you want to see how her life and the life of her father turn out, pick up this first volume now.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 1, 2022
• ISBN: 9781667854014

Book preview

Chapter 1

Late December 2011

…and so is the life we celebrate today, ended with us and continued again with our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. For God has ordained that it is for man once to die, then the judgment. We know, that brother Jim has avoided that harsh judgment as a lover of Jesus, and that…

On and on their Pastor droned. Meaningless words on a tasteless day. A day she never thought would ever happen. Is Jim really gone, she thought? How is all of this possible? It’s like a bad dream that can’t be shaken…yet a clouded reality that simply adds more unreality to the day. Exhausted, she listened and struggled with racing thoughts that were both scattered and unreflective of the circumstance. Does this thing have to take so long? Why are so many people here? Did Jim really know all of these people? Why aren’t I as sad as them?

She couldn’t cry any more. Worn out and with a splitting headache, she endured the monotone lecture she had heard every time she consented to go to church with Jim, for the last 37 years. The only difference was that this was Jim’s funeral. Three days ago she was talking to him and sharing a private moment of love and laughter. And now, she was sitting on a cold folding chair in the middle of an unshaded cemetery where the mixture of sunshine and cold December air would ordinarily be a nice day.

…love he held for our Savior bore fruit in his life. Many here today…

What did he say? Jim’s life bore fruit? What’s it all amount to now? Her mood grew slowly darker than, and as bitter as, the center of a peach pit. Jim never stopped talking about Jesus. But Jim never stopped talking about a lot of things. It’s what she loved most about him…he could be a chatterbox alright, but his calm and wise responses to every single thing in life always amazed her. Where did he get it from? Marriage is supposed to be complementary isn’t it!? Well, Jim sure made up for so many of her faults. But now, he was gone. And all she had left was a dark mood…a mood she could barely sublimate to any fond memories. And she did have plenty of fond memories. But somehow, today was not the day for them. It just didn’t seem right.

…were affected by Jim’s generosity with time and resources. Many here have been students in his Sunday school classes. Many here have sought Jim for his…

She wished it were over. The church-lecture, the handfuls of dirt, the flowers, the crying men and women, the hand-shaking, the hugs, the condolences…all of it. Why does there have to be a reception at the church? She didn’t ask for a reception, a dinner, or any other kind of recognition after this pointless ceremony! Why can’t they all just leave me alone?

Genevieve Ellen Harris was feeling crowded…stuffed into a crate with everyone peering in to offer encouragement. Offers of dinner and outings and advice were creeping into her mental crate yet barely scraping the fog within. How can I escape this pain? Am I even having any pain, she thought? Is this all there is? Am I left with a memory…and more ghosts than I can count?

The reception wasn’t as bad as the graveside lecture and interminable line of criers and well-wishers. Gen’s good friend Maggie drove them both back to the church. With sweet-smelling pies on the floor of the back seat, they smelled like a rolling bakery truck making the rounds. Maggie’s blue Audi needed gas. She had to stop at the Quick-Mart and fill up. Apologetically, she said she’d be just a minute. That’s Maggie for you. Always some hitch in an otherwise foolproof plan. She must drive Hal nuts, Gen thought with a wry smile.

Lakeside Covenant Church of Greeley had a nearly full parking lot. Wouldn’t it be ironic that the wife of the deceased can’t get a parking spot at her own husband’s funeral reception, she thought? Maggie wanted Genevieve to go on downstairs to the fellowship hall. The pies would be tended to without Gen’s help, no worries.

Once inside, Gen descended the stairs, careful to avoid the handicapped chair lift used by some of the members. A few falls had occurred that necessitated the widening of that particular stairway and the installation of the chair lift. Now it was just a matter of navigating around the chair’s track at the head of the stairs. Once downstairs, there was a long line of tables loaded with food. Homemade and store-bought delicacies alike adorned each table and crowded the desserts placed at the end. Coffee, lemonade, and tea were in big urns next to the Solo cups.

Genevieve wasn’t in the least bit hungry. Her mood, dark without tears, was eating at her as those around her spoke in quiet tones and offered warm hugs and contrite smiles. Empty inside, she made her way to the seat reserved for her. Neither she nor Jim had living family. So their close friends, Maggie and Hal, would sit with her at the same table with Pastor and Mrs. Nelson joining them. A hard and uninviting folding chair again made her physically uncomfortable. But, so be it! Perfect. It just fit this day anyway, she thought.

Maggie and Hal took their seats after a quick hug. The Pastor announced a quick blessing for the food. As all heads bowed, Gen looked around the room and wondered, why in the world do we thank an absent God for sustenance that was more a product of scientific farming, organized shipping methods, and distributive marketing? Just exactly what did God have to do with it, anyway? But then, she remembered that Jim had always said a blessing for their meals and that for years she bowed her head and listened as he gave thanks to God. Back then, it was just some quirky thing Jim did. Slowly, she bowed her head and waited.

Hal offered to get full dinner plates for both ladies and before Gen could decline, off he went in a rush. Maggie searched Genevieve’s eyes with an empathetic look and asked her how she was doing so far. As Gen began to tell her, the Pastor and his wife came to sit down.

Genevieve, how are you holding up, hmm?

The pastor always ended every question with a hmmm? At this moment, it was very annoying and Gen wasn’t up to any small annoyances. But, with polite exasperation she told all at the table that she was glad that it was nearing the end of the day. She really wanted to get home, put her feet up, watch some television, and go to bed. Besides, she had this persistent headache to deal with.

Expressing their understanding with nods, everyone fell silent. Hal rushed up juggling three plates of food and said,

I’ll be back with drinks.

Gen took small bites of the food before her. As of late, she had difficulty swallowing any food without water and always ended up giving herself heartburn. She had assured Jim that all that was happening was an upset stomach that wouldn’t go away. Truthfully though, she found herself taking more and more antacids at every meal. Finally, she promised Jim that she’d make an appointment…and she had. Little did she know that it would be the day after his funeral. But, that appointment was tomorrow. Now was now.

Maggie had already signed-on to go with her. They would make a day of it…the appointment in the morning, a light lunch at Lady’s Tea House, and shopping for some antiques in the afternoon. Wondering if it would be too much too fast, she asked Gen to be honest with her.

Are you sure that you want to keep your appointment and have a day out tomorrow? We can cancel for another time if you wish, Maggie said in a solicitously lilting tone.

Gen really didn’t want to do anything tomorrow. Her world had collapsed from under her and all she wanted was to be in bed and sleep it off. She wouldn’t be going back to work for a week yet, so why not? Maybe there would be something to feel along the way. Maybe this feeling of numbness would disappear and she could slow her racing mind down and concentrate on the many tasks left for her by Jim.

Without a smile Gen said, No, let’s go. I need some diversion. I need muh gurl-friend, Maggie. Let’s do it.

As the food slowly disappeared, people began excusing themselves for home. Hugs and goodbyes and We’re-praying-foryou’s and all the tedium of wrapping up her horrendous day slowly gave her a kind of relief. The end of a day is near. My home…my empty home…awaits me, she thought. My bed…my empty bed…awaits me with open arms, she thought sarcastically. She was ready to go home and never move again.

At last, an elderly gentleman grasped and kissed her hand. With a tear in his eye, he expressed his sorrow for her loss and said that he’d be praying for her. As he shuffled away, her curiosity was aroused and she asked Maggie who the gentleman was. Even though Maggie didn’t know, Gen was sure that she had met him somewhere before. But, too tired to be embarrassed at not remembering an acquaintance, she allowed Maggie and Hal to drive her home.

Arriving at 15735 Marleton Court had nowhere near the excitement and joy she usually had when coming home from a business trip. Her two-tone green home was as pin-neat as she and Jim had always kept it. The automatic lights had done their usual jobs and lit the front porch and lawn with a street-lamp sort of glow. A bug-zapper glowed with a purplish neon haze. But the night was cool and no bugs were being zapped. The only thing being zapped is my head, she thought.

Are you sure that you don’t need anything tonight, Gen? Hal and I wouldn’t mind taking your guest room for the evening, Maggie said.

Hal gave her a short look of incredulity, and then nodded his head with sympathy. All Gen needed was behind that front door.

I’ll see you in the morning, Maggie.

With a tearful hug and kiss, Maggie promised to be on the doorstep by nine a.m.

Jim wasn’t there. Yet, he was. His keys were hanging in the same place they always hung: by the door on that Jesus-is-Lord key hanger. She always wondered what that really meant, but now that Jim wasn’t here to explain it again for the umpteenth time, it just didn’t matter. Those silly hats he collected…all were lined up and hanging in the recreation room undisturbed. Even his car was still in the garage gathering dust…where it had been parked for the last six weeks.

Looking at their wedding pictures hanging on the wall, she felt a low moan rise within her. Then the tears began to flow. She and Jim standing before the preacher with the mountains in the background brought out so many memories that she needed to shake her head as if shrugging off a task for later. A wall of pictures to the right of the wedding shots contained pictures of their son Bobby…from birth through manhood. She never could pass this wall without some tears, and today…of all days…it was even worse.

Jim, Jim…where are you…why did you have to leave me..we were supposed to grow old together and love each other into old age. Why aren’t you here? she sobbed.

The house was almost too quiet…even though it was as quiet as it always had been. The sound of that Grand Father Clock they bought while on Jim’s mission trip to South Korea was not all that could be heard. A refrigerator motor stuck continually cycling on and off again. Jim had meant to have that repaired. It was no longer just part of the background noise but part of the cacophony of lonely silence she felt. The gas heater roared to life and filled the house with a delicious-warmth that somehow wasn’t enough. She needed more…a blanket…a sweater…his arms around her.

If she could just drag herself to bed…stop her mind from racing for just a few minutes. Once in bed, sleep would take over, she was sure of it. But before the sleep came heavy tears and a feeling of utter hopeless abandonment. First Mom, then Bobby, and now you Jim, she mumbled through her tears and pounding headache. It wasn’t until late that she finally fell asleep in the big leather recliner chair, unwilling to lay down in the bed without her Jimmy.

As he searched for his keys, thoughts saddened with grief clouded his mind. He had just shaken hands with a grieving widow whom he couldn’t comfort other than to say he was sorry and that he’d be praying for her. I am eighty-five years old and I haven’t found a way to tell her yet! If it wasn’t for that promise…In his own grief-stricken reverie, he was startled to find that he was standing in the parking lot of the church alone. A late model blue Audi pulled out of the lot as he examined his keys and locked the church door. Tears came too easily as he walked to his own car.

Chapter 2

Genevieve woke up with a headache and a cramp in her neck put there by falling asleep in a cockeyed position on a chair. Ohhh…my head, she moaned. A quick glance at the clock next to the bed told her that it was just after eight-thirty in the morning. Maggie said she would pick her up at nine, but Gen knew her friend. It wouldn’t be nine a.m. She knew that Maggie was always late…and had some excuse that seemed preposterous but was legitimate all the same. So, she told her the appointment was at nine-thirty and to pick her up at nine sharp. Of course, Maggie would be twenty minutes late. No matter…the appointment was really for ten a.m. Forty minutes…just enough time to get ready, Gen said aloud.

A quick shower, a couple of shaved legs, a blow-dried hair-do…maybe I should have washed ny hair, she thought…and she was ready to get dressed. Her walk-in closet was loaded with dresses, casuals, and business suits. What to wear…what to wear…no need for a business suit, I’m not working, she said aloud; a dress…not for the doctor. This was a new doctor…one she had been referred to and probably wouldn’t see again…no need to be impressive. Casual…she felt casual…numb actually, so might as well dress that way. Her taupe Vanity Fair bra, matching panties, and a pair of green Capri’s and matching print top were easy to lay out and wear. She selected the tan Birkenstock sandals and quickly dressed with five minutes to spare.

Sure enough, Maggie showed up at nine-twenty with excuse in hand…

Gen, Gen…I am SO sorry! Hal was supposed to reset the alarm clock for me when he went to work. That knucklehead is always forgetting stuff…but he’s my…, her voice trailed off to a teary frown.

Hal’s not the knucklehead, Gen thought, but Maggie was HER knucklehead from now on, she guessed. With a smile and a hug, Genevieve told her it was O.K. The doctor’s office had called and moved the appointment up to ten a.m. A little white lie to protect her friend’s dignity wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Just enough time for Starbucks, Gen smiled.

Genevieve was just trying to enjoy Maggie’s company and the ride to the doctor’s office. How is one supposed to feel on the day after you bury your husband? Should she bring it up? Maggie was obviously avoiding the topic. Maybe it’s supposed to be this way for now. The Pastor never said anything about this to her and no one thus far had given her any clue about afterwards. Fortunately, both she and Maggie were good talkers though Gen didn’t feel much like talking. So, she just listened as Maggie went on and on about her favorite topics…throwing a short comment in here and there. The trees and sidewalks moved by the car as if in slow motion. People walking their dogs and pushing strollers seemed to dot the parkway. Joggers looked so serious as they concentrated on their pacing, and the cars and trucks seemed to be moving without occupants.

What luck! The drive through at Starbucks was empty. Maggie ordered a Caramel Macchiato and a blueberry scone. Gen hesitated while staring at the menu sign. She couldn’t get pastry or a bagel…nothing to eat. If she didn’t have water, it would be nearly impossible to swallow; and coffee would be too hot to wash anything down with. No, just a simple Grande coffee with two sweeteners and hazelnut creamer would do for now. Maggie insisted on paying as they slowly moved up to the window. The girl in the window took Maggie’s card and asked for I.D. When payment had processed, she handed the drinks and scone through the window with a smile. Thanks for coming to Starbucks, she said.

The remainder of the ride to the doctor’s office was full of chit-chat and slow, even sips. Maggie’s macchiato was cold, so she didn’t have to drink it slowly. Even if Gen’s drink had been cold, she still would have had to sip it. As they pulled into the parking lot, Gen noticed that the spaces by the door were full…especially the handicapped parking. There always seemed to be one handicapped space that was occupied without sign of the proper plate or hanging placard. This annoyed Genevieve tremendously and always made her feel like calling the police, though she never did. Parked in the second row, the two walked past the handicapped parking and into the square three story glass building.

Who are we seeing? asked Maggie.

Dr. Geoffrey Bonn was a gastroenterologist referred to her by her PCP (primary care physician). Dr. Sharon Durnly had expressed some concern over Gen’s trouble swallowing a little over six months ago. But, when Jim got sick, Gen found herself putting off the appointment so she could care for her beloved. Over time, the swallowing got nothing but worse. Now, it was nearly impossible to swallow food without water.

The elevator climbed slowly to the third floor. Gen loved glass enclosed elevators. This one had flowering plants and trees, in tiers at each level, outside of the etched glass cage they rode in. Scenes of mountain waterfalls and wildlife particular to the Greely area added to the beauty of the surroundings. The whole time, one could look beyond the plants and etchings and actually see the foothills and mountains in the near distance.

Opening to a foyer, Gen stepped through the doors and walked to a desk standing on what looked like a very expensive Berber carpet. Giving her name to the receptionist, Gen was handed a clipboard with forms to fill out. Personal information and medical question after medical question filled the first three pages. Then a signature page, informing her of her patient’s rights, and another telling her how this medical practice protected private information, required her to read and check a few boxes. With Maggie looking on, she completed the forms in about five minutes. The receptionist asked for her insurance card and driver’s license.

Your co-pay today is thirty-five dollars, the receptionist said.

Gen absent mindedly handed over her visa card, then signed the receipt.

Please wait in the patient’s lounge and you will be called soon, smiled the receptionist.

Waiting was something Genevieve did worst. Maggie was already reading Style magazine…if one actually read such a magazine full of fashion pictures. Adults of every age could be seen sitting and reading, chatting, or just staring into space. This office had several different kinds of doctors practicing the medical sciences. One of the docs must be a pediatrician, Gen thought. Children were busily using toys and engaging in various learning activities in one corner of the lounge. She closed her eyes and could see herself as a child, playing with toys, laughing, reading stories; My oh my how far life has taken me.

Summer 1965

Genevieve Ellen Harris (Johnson), came from a one-parent family. Her mother, Evelyn, always told her that her father never wanted either of them…that he disappeared when Genevieve was two months old. That’s what she always believed, anyway. Oh, there had been several would-be Fathers along the way. Mom dated from time to time, but nothing very serious ever came from any of it. Gen always kind of thought that she was the one responsible for scaring them away.

You know men…when they see a little responsibility they just get all weak-kneed and jittery and take off leaving you holding the bag…just like your Father, her mother said.

Don’t you pay any attention to them, honey…it isn’t your fault they leave…it’s their fault.

Somewhere in the back of Gen’s head, she didn’t quite believe her mother. But, Mom had always told her the same thing, and with age she began to believe it. Besides, it wasn’t like there were a whole LOT of men, anyway. Her Mom seemed to stop dating sometime after Gen was 12 years old. From then on, it was just the two of them against the world! Mom would work at odd second-jobs here and there while maintaining her primary employment as a school secretary. Gen’s job was to help with the chores and get good grades in school. Mother had always told her,

"Genevieve Ellen, in this life a girl ends up doing all the chores anyway, so you might as well be the best at it. And