It's probably one of the hardest sentences to say. A guy my age doesn't ever say that to their dads. It's ultra personal and way uncool. But it's the truth. So why didn't I say it?
In memory of the father of Luken Grace. Luken submitted this story to Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul II. I edited it into the Hannah Montana version.
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I held the TV antenna in place and waited for Dad to start messing with it. I'd occasionally hand him some tools, but we mostly just talked. About sports, jobs, school, friends, and girls.
I could talk to my dad about anything. Except...
Once you turn 8, you're a 'Big Boy', and let me tell you: it's a big change in your life. It's not cool to cry, and girls lose their cooties. But most importantly, you can no longer say, "I love you" to your dad. And if they say it, you have to just yawn and nod.
I wonder if my dad really understood the relationship I had with him. Or how much fun I have spending time with me. Or how he's my role model.
But would I lose my man if I told him I loved him?
I tried anyway. That night I marched all my 16 years to Dad's room. I poked my head in. He was sitting on his bed, on his laptop.
"Dad?"
He looked up.
"Yes, Jackson?"
"Uh... G'night, Dad."
"'Night, Jackson," he said, going back to him laptop.
As I got into bed, I mentally kicked myself.
I definitely wasn't man if I couldn't perk up the courage to talk to him.
--
The next day at school was an ordinary day like no other.
When the bell rang, I went out to my car to drive to the beach to work. I was about to pull out when I got a call on my cell phone.
"Hello?"
"Jackson Stewart?"
"Yes?"
"You're wanted at home right away."
And then there was a click. I didn't recognize the voice, but figured it was probably some stupid Hannah Montana thing.
I pulled up to the house and got out of the car. There were 3 others parked outside. Definitely Hannah Montana.
I walked up to the front step and was just about to open the door when it opened for me. It was Jessica Coherty, one of my dad's work friend's hot daughters, tears streaming down her face. She sort of fell into my arms sobbing uncontrollably. I just stood like that, hugging her for a few minutes before I wrapped my arm around her waist and walked inside.
Miley came up with Lilly and Jessica's sister Renee and they all started crying and hugging. I raised my eyebrows. Now I was really confused.
Roxxi came over a moment later and quietly explained to me that Dad had gotten in a car accident and died. He had been in a carpool with two of his work friends and they had been upset that they survived and he didn't. I could feel tears coming to my own eyes as I watched his miserable co-workers sitting in kitchen chairs looking (and I'm sure, feeling) worthless.
I walked over to the couch and plopped down on it, putting my face in my hands. I don't know how long I sat like that but after a while, I felt arms around me.
"It's gonna be okay," Miley whispered in my ear. "Just fine. We're gonna stick together and get through this."
--
Later that week, Roxxi, Marty Kline, Cheryl Coherty (Renee and Jessica's mom) and Eddie Goodard, dad's work friends, along with Lilly's family and Oliver's family, drove down to Tennessee to be with the rest of our relatives and for the funeral. Dad had specifically asked to be buried next to Mom in the Nashville Cemetery.
Later that night after the funeral, Jessica came up to me and hugged me. She said she was really sorry. She'd be going back to California while we stayed in Tennessee for one more week. She said to call when she got back because she wanted to stay in touch. And she kissed me.
I was pleased, I won't deny. But mostly because one small ray of sunshine in such darkness is a blessing.
--
After a week with our family, Miley and I went back to Malibu. Marty Kline became Hannah Montana's new manager. Lilly Truscott's parents (who knew about the Hannah Montana situation) foster cared for us until the adoption papers were ready, with which I received new parents.
I kept in touch with Jessica, and we started dating. And to this day, her and I, with our son and daughter Matt and Casey, are truly blessed with life. I've told this story to my son Matt, who is 12, and still tells his daddy that he loves him.
Because he's man enough.