AMELIA stood at the port in Georgetown, looking beyond the expansive waters of the Atlantic Ocean to the far horizon. She stood there, a pretty young girl in a floral dress, with a white rose in her hand. There was a sad look in her eyes, hope in her heart, and she looked up at her mother, who nodded her head with a comforting smile.

Amelia kissed the rose gently and, with a tremor in her voice, she said, “Happy Father’s Day, Dad,” and threw the rose into the water. She stood for a while, watching the rose riding on the rippling waves, further and further away.

“Please take it to my dad,” she whispered.

Her mother took her hand, and they walked home, slow and steady.

It had been six years since her father had disappeared at sea, leaving her grieved, hoping with each new day that there would be word received of those on board.

Amelia had been just five years old at the time of her father’s disappearance, and each year that passed could have dimmed her hope, but in the little girl’s heart, she felt he was alive out there somewhere.

On Father’s Day, after church, her mother brought her to the port to whisper his name that would ride on the wind, across the ocean, and the water would take the rose to him, and he would know it was from his little girl.

He had been a dad, special in so many ways, often lifting her up on his strong shoulders and asking her, “Can you see the world?”

“Yes,” she had always laughed, thrilled, for he was a tall man and she could see so much.

She was his little princess, and he had said to her, “Daddy will work hard to ensure you have a good life, a good education, and build a fairytale home for you.”

So, with that in mind, he had taken a job to work on a cruise ship. He had felt it was a great opportunity to give his family a better life, but it had saddened their hearts that he would be away for many months.

He had kissed her and her mother’s tears away on that early morning and had comforted them with the promise that he wouldn’t be away for too long.

The tragic news came four months later that the ship had been caught in a terrible storm and was lost at sea with everyone on board.

Amelia’s mother had cried so much that it was as though day became night, and sadness and tears took the place of joy and happiness in their lives.

For every day that passed without a word from the ship or the survivors, the pain grew deeper.

Her mother, a primary school teacher, had to find the strength to keep working so she could pay the bills and provide for their needs.

For Amelia, on Father’s Day, she always felt her hopes rising that he would return, that she would hear his voice calling her name.

Today, that feeling was deeper for her.

“Have I lost you, Dad?”

He had wanted so many good things for her and, in his memory, she had worked towards it, excelling in the NGSA examinations to earn a place in the top school of the country.

She was soon to begin high school, a new phase in her life, with change, opportunities, and no strong hands to hold her, to guide her.

They walked away from the port, two lonely people, the ocean silent, not a word of anyone found.

It was a quiet day once more for Amelia. A scrumptious meal she could not enjoy, nothing on the television interested her, nor any new songs on the airwaves.

“I guess I’ll just read a book,” she mused, and that she did.

Twilight descended on the small, quiet neighbourhood, and as Amelia closed her pet bunnies’ hutch and bade them good night, she noticed a tall stranger walking up the street. His hair and beard were long, and he walked with a slight limp.

“Another vagrant,” she muttered sympathetically. “I wonder what befell him.”

There was something vaguely familiar about him, but it was starting to get dark, and she couldn’t be sure.

She turned to go inside the house when a familiar voice called her name.

“Amelia.”

Her heart almost froze, and she turned around, but only saw the bearded stranger. She looked beyond him but saw no one else on the street.

“Am I imagining things?”

The tall, bearded stranger walked up to the gate, and as Amelia turned and began walking towards the house once more, the same familiar voice called out to her.

“My little princess.”

Amelia turned swiftly, her heartbeats quickening, but still saw no one until her eyes were drawn to the vagrant at the gate.

He smiled and said, “You have grown up from six years ago.”

Amelia’s hand flew to her mouth, and she screamed, “Mommy! Mommy!”

Her mother ran out of the house, fearing something was wrong, and Amelia pointed to the man at the gate with a trembling hand.

“It’s Daddy,” she cried.

Her mother looked at the man, astounded, and took hold of Amelia’s hand.

“What are you saying? How can that person be—”

“Andrea,” his voice interrupted her, and she gasped, recognising his voice but still standing there, uncertain because of his appearance.

“Who are you and how do you know my name?”

The stranger smiled and stepped forward into the glow of a nearby streetlight,, which illuminated his familiar features, and answered, “I’m your husband.”

Amelia pulled her hand away from her mother and ran to the gate, hugging the father she had hoped to see again after six years. He caught her and swung her up into his arms.

It was a heart-touching moment for father and daughter on Father’s Day.

The mother stood there, as though in shock, and walking up to her, he took her hand and said, “It’s okay, take your time.”

She broke down crying, and he hugged her, saying, “I’ve come back home to my family.”

That night, after they had settled down, their emotions now under control, he told them that the ship had indeed sunk after it ran into a terrible storm, but he had survived by clinging to a piece of debris and drifting for days until he was picked up by a fishing boat and taken to a small, unknown island.

A hit to the head and the trauma caused him to lose his memory.

So, he stayed on the island, not knowing who he was or where he belonged, until one day he saw a mother and daughter who looked like him and his sister, and it jolted his memory.

“But why didn’t you call, and why the change in appearance?”

“I had felt like a tired, broken man. I didn’t want media attention; I just wanted to come home quietly. The hair and beard are how I had looked whilst living on the island, so I decided to keep them on my journey here, not sure if my family was still here.”

Andrea took his hands, tears spilling from her eyes.

“We never gave up waiting for you, living with the hope of getting a call that you survived.”

“I knew it in my heart that you would return,” Amelia said to him.

And her feelings hadn’t been wrong – after six years, she could now celebrate Father’s Day again.