Finding My Dad

I was looking through the local community education and spotted a class that caught my eye: T’ai Chi Chih. The description read like so much of the information that had been around my parents’ house. I was finally at a point in my life where I could take an evening a week for myself and have some “me” time. Driving to my first class, I felt excited, nervous and anxious. “Could this instructor possibly have known my Dad,” I wondered. She was an accredited teacher; he had been, too. He had lived in Minnetonka, Minnesota, however, and this class was 90 miles away.

When I found my place in class and opened the folder of information we were given, it was like looking at the information that had been in my parents’ house. It took my breath away and tears were close to the surface. Again I wondered, “Had she known my Dad?” After Bonnie closed the door and class was starting, she looked over her shoulder and asked, “Did someone just come in?” I thought to myself, “Dad is here.” No one physically came into the room but I believe his spirit was present.

As Bonnie led us through the TCC movements, they were familiar to me. I soaked up all the movements as if I my Dad were leading. I had never taken a formal class from him, but he had instructed my husband and me at home one Saturday morning, 22 years ago. I could feel myself react with a smile or head nod as Bonnie shared her knowledge with us. “Did she know my Dad,” I kept wondering, especially when she mentioned attending conferences.

When class ended, Bonnie looked straight at me and said, “Do I know you? Have we met before?” I said, “No, we’ve never met, but you might know my Dad. His name was Joe Apt.” She gasped and told me he was her “grandpa” in her TCC lineage. This news brought my tears to the surface. She not only knew of my Dad, she had a close relationship with him. This was everything I had hoped for and more. We shared a big hug and I had a connection to my Dad, who had died in July 2010. TCC had given my Dad so much joy. When my oldest daughter once interviewed him for a class paper and asked what he wanted to be remembered for in his life, he said he wanted to leave a legacy of TCC. His wish was fulfilled as I looked at Bonnie, a student of one of his students, his “granddaughter,” so to speak. Namaste, Dad.