Shere Hite - Hite Report on Shere Hite: Voice of a Daughter in Exile

One day, just after I finished the university he paid for, my grandfather died. I received the news in a telephone call: Your grandfather has died. This put me in a sombre mood, as he was truly my father. He had had Alzheimers Disease for some time, and so we had really said goodbye several years ago but it still hurt, for in essence, he was my family.

That night, I looked through my scrapbook. There was the long-ago picture of me feeding the chickens, playing with my dolls, my grandfather holding me. Once he even asked me to call him Dad. I was enchanted with the idea, but he was so shy that he took the offer back before I could respond.

I loved my grandfather. I love to look at the picture of him holding me on his shoulder in our front yard, looking so happy, proud and pleased the way I saw him look at me so many times during his life.

A few years before he died, he told me goodbye, even though it would actually be some time before he would die physically. One day in the kitchen when we were alone (he was lying on a cot there so he could be near us, he was no longer able to walk about), he started talking to me, haltingly and with effort. As this was the first time, with increasing Alzheimers, that he had shown a sign of recognition in some time, the moment was riveting for me. He said, Youll have to take care of yourself from now on. I love you. I love you so much. Take care of yourself. Get a good place. Dont let people bother you. Youll get a little hell, but itll go away. Dont let it bother you. Goodbye.

When I heard him actually say goodbye, I knew that he knew. It broke my heart, but I was so happy to hear him speak! Then there was a long silence. It was evening, everyone else had gone grocery shopping and we were there, waiting for them to come back. I had turned the light on, it was getting dark. The silence continued while I looked at him, taking in what he had said.

He began again, Youve got to go to Sunday school , a pause, then, You know, Venus and Mercury, they seem very very far away to us, but sometimes they come near Goodbye, honey Youll have to take care of yourself now

I sat there and remembered in a flash evening walks with him, looking up at the sky while he explained the constellations to me, so many years before. We would walk around the block, he pointing out to me the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper, the Bear and many of the other constellations. It was beautiful to look up at the huge dark velvet night sky. You can see it so clearly in Missouri, coming down on all sides around you, on every horizon, as the land is very flat. The stars twinkle very clearly. I remember the brilliantly quiet, profound soundlessness there that seems to send its own messages the stars more beautiful than diamonds and my grandfathers rough hand tenderly holding mine.

As a young man, he had been with the geological survey unit that mapped New Mexico during World War I. There had been no accurate map of that part of the United States before. They travelled by horseback, and perhaps used the stars in addition to their instruments, to map their locations. My grandfather wrote long, detailed letters back to his parents, one each day, about the way in which they did their mapping, about his horse and the other animals they worked with, and what they did letters my family still have.

Now here I was in this kitchen with a bright light beaming from the ceiling, another night and years later, still taking strength from his companionship. I was sad he could no longer hear me, but grateful for what he was saying to me. Always considerate, always giving. Once when I was leaning over him where he was lying in the kitchen to ask him if he wanted some water, he looked up at me and smiled with delight, pointing a shaky finger at my long reddish hair, Thats a nice sky youve got there! He had violently beautiful blue eyes like the blue sky on a snow-white landscape with the sun shining. Now his eyes were twinkling as I laughed.