Melinda sat on a chair propped up as close as she could get it to the hospital bed
where her father lay dying.
She had kept up a cheerful facade as best she could but she had started to cry.
She didn't want him to see her like that but she was overcome by sadness.
She thought briefly of the show scheduled in two weeks.
It flashed through her mind of all the preparations that had been made,
all the people who worked so hard and everyone that was coming.
In her pain, she couldn't bring herself to care. She would not be there.
They would just have to cancel, that's all.
"Sweetie," her father whispered,
"have I informed you lately that you're the best daughter in the known and unknown universe?"
He had always told her that; It had always made her smile.
"Dad..." she started to say then choked, unable to continue.
"You listen here, Superstar," her father said,
"it's not going to be easy for you but I want you to do that concert.
I want you to go out there and give it all you've got--
that night and for the rest of your life—your precious life."
"Dad, I can't. I just can't," answered Melinda--
the famous singer and the loving daughter.
"I heard something once," her dad went on,
"you can't get to heaven if the ones you love cry too much for you.
I want to go to heaven. And I want you to follow that rainbow.
Don't cry too much, Sweetie—sing instead."
He passed away two hours later--
the carpenter and the loving father.
The night of the concert Melinda gathered all the strength she had
and sang the best she had ever sung.
The audience roared with approval and an extra measure of appreciation.
They were aware of what it must have taken for her to be there.
As Melinda looked out over the crowd that night, she saw only the face of her father;
and she was that little girl singing in her room--
her room with the small, lovingly handcrafted, wooden sign hanging on the door--
Superstar!
where her father lay dying.
She had kept up a cheerful facade as best she could but she had started to cry.
She didn't want him to see her like that but she was overcome by sadness.
She thought briefly of the show scheduled in two weeks.
It flashed through her mind of all the preparations that had been made,
all the people who worked so hard and everyone that was coming.
In her pain, she couldn't bring herself to care. She would not be there.
They would just have to cancel, that's all.
"Sweetie," her father whispered,
"have I informed you lately that you're the best daughter in the known and unknown universe?"
He had always told her that; It had always made her smile.
"Dad..." she started to say then choked, unable to continue.
"You listen here, Superstar," her father said,
"it's not going to be easy for you but I want you to do that concert.
I want you to go out there and give it all you've got--
that night and for the rest of your life—your precious life."
"Dad, I can't. I just can't," answered Melinda--
the famous singer and the loving daughter.
"I heard something once," her dad went on,
"you can't get to heaven if the ones you love cry too much for you.
I want to go to heaven. And I want you to follow that rainbow.
Don't cry too much, Sweetie—sing instead."
He passed away two hours later--
the carpenter and the loving father.
The night of the concert Melinda gathered all the strength she had
and sang the best she had ever sung.
The audience roared with approval and an extra measure of appreciation.
They were aware of what it must have taken for her to be there.
As Melinda looked out over the crowd that night, she saw only the face of her father;
and she was that little girl singing in her room--
her room with the small, lovingly handcrafted, wooden sign hanging on the door--
Superstar!
Written Content G.A.M. cc
Portrait Of A Rock Singer Netfalls
Portrait Of A Woman Rocker Netfalls
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