With his elderly father suffering from the confusion that comes with too many old-age ailments, Steven Travers felt\u00a0the two of them still\u00a0needed to have a heart-to-heart talk.<\/p>\n
But he feared it would not be easy.<\/p>\n
“I girded myself,” Travers writes in an extremely personal column in the San Francisco-area Marin Independent Journal.<\/em> “Would he understand? What would I say?”<\/p>\n “I walked in, pulled up a chair, held Dad’s hand and stroked his hair, thinking of Johnny Cash\u200b’s song about his own “silver-haired Daddy,” and how I had put some of that very grey on his sweet head.<\/p>\n “Daddy,” I said to him, “you’re the best daddy ever. I love you so much, thank you for being the best daddy any kid ever had.” I had not called him ‘daddy’ since I was about 10 or 11.<\/p>\n Then the miracle, the gift began to manifest itself. It was about 2:30 p.m. July 5. God was in that room the whole time, but his presence became a palpable entity, the truth of which became known by me.<\/p>\n Dad looked at me, his eyes open, bright and clear. He smiled.<\/p>\n “I love you, too, Steve,” he said. All the confusion was replaced by clear, cogent, vivid thoughts and expressions.<\/p>\n “Daddy,” I said, “you have to ask Jesus Christ\u200b to forgive you your sins, to repent in your heart. Will you do that, Daddy?”<\/p>\n He smiled. “Of course I do. I love God. I’ve always loved God.”<\/p>\n Over the course of 45 minutes to an hour, I had my last conversation with him. I held his hand and stroked his hair, his head, and kissed him repeatedly …<\/p><\/blockquote>\n