My father was a gruff man. I couldn't remember the last time he had tenderly stroked my cheek, tousled my hair or used a term of endearment when calling my name. His diabetes had given him a short temper and he screamed a lot. I was envious when I saw other fathers plant gentle kisses on their daughters' foreheads or impulsively give them a big bear hug. I knew that he loved me and that his love was deep. He just didn't know how to express it. It was hard to say 'I love you' to someone who didn't say it back. After so many disappointing times when I would flinch from his sharp rebuff I began to withdraw my own warm displays of affection. I stopped reaching out or hugging or kissing him. At first this act of self-restraint was conscious. Later it would become automatic, and finally it was ingrained. The love between us ran strong but silent. One rare evening out, when my mother had successfully coaxed my usually asocial father to join us for a night in the town, we were sitting in an elegant restaurant that boasted a small but lively band. When it struck up a familiar waltz tune, I glanced at my father. He suddenly appeared small and shrunken to me not powerful and intimidating as I had always perceived him. All the old hurts welled up inside but I decided to dare one last time. 'Dad, You know I've never ever danced with you. Even when I was a little girl, I begged you, but you never wanted to! How about right now? ' I waited for the usual brusque reply that would once again slice my heart into ribbons. But instead he considered me thoughtfully and then a surprising twinkle appeared in his eye.' I have been remiss in my duties as a father then.' he uncharacteristically joked. 'Let's hit the floor and I'll show you just what kind of moves an old geezer like me still can make!' My father took me in his arms. Since earliest childhood I hadn't been enfolded in his embrace. I felt overcome by emotion. As we danced, I looked up at my father intently but he avoided my gaze. His eyes swept the dance floor, the other diners and the members of the band. His scrutiny took in everyone and everything but me. I felt that he must already be regretting his decision to join me for a dance he seemed uncomfortable being physically close to me. 'Dad,' I finally whispered tears in my eyes. 'Why is it so hard for you to look at me?' At last his eyes dropped to my face and he studied me intently. 'Because I love you so much', he whispered back. 'Because I love you. ' I was struck dumb by his response. It wasn't what I had anticipated. But it was of course exactly what I needed to hear. His own eyes were misty and he was blinking. I had always known that he loved me, I just hadn't understood that his vast emotion had frightened him and made him mute. His taciturn manner hid the deep emotions flowing inside. 'I love you too, Dad' I whispered back softly. He stumbled over the next few words' I ... I'm sorry that I'm not demonstrative.' Then he said 'I've realized that I don't show what I feel. My parents never hugged or kissed me and I guess I learned how not to from them. It's... it's.., hard for me. I'm probably too old to change my ways now but just know how much I love you.' 'Okay' I smiled. When the dance ended, I brought Dad back to Mom waiting at the table and excused myself to the ladies' room. I was gone just a few minutes but during my absence everything changed. There were screams and shouts and scrapings of chairs as I made my way back across the room. I wondered what the commotion was all about. As I approached the table I saw it was all about Dad. He was slumped in his chair ashen gray. A doctor in the restaurant rushed over to handle the emergency and an ambulance was called but it was really all too late. He was gone. Instantly they said. What had suddenly made me after so many years of steeling myself against his constant rejection ask hi