This is the second Part of Henry’s story of how he visits his father, to see him for the first time in over 15 years. The immediate background to Henry’s story was posted on the blog earlier in the year. That story was published in two parts and is called “The Well-watered Garden” and is still there to read. Reading it will help make the story clear.
In the first part of this story Henry tells how the way is cleared for his reconciliation with his Dad – with a lot of help from God and the Vicar. In this second Part we hear how he meets up with his Dad. He wakes up early to the sound of seagulls!
“Come and Stay!”- Part 2
It was already light when I was woken by the resident seagulls telling me it was high tide and the fishing boats were back in the harbour after a night catching fish. I looked at my watch: 7:35 am! I showered and dressed and grabbed some breakfast (too much choice!) And then hurried down stairs. There was no one about (I think they were delivering their three children to school!) So I left the house, my daypack filled with a left over croissant and a small tin of my favorite apple juice – and my father’s “Sir Galahad” plaque.
I wandered down to the sea and then along the quay, wondering what time would be best to knock on my father’s door. In the harbour there were a number of boats unloading fish. I walked further along the quay until I came across a man busy preparing his boat to go sailing. As I got near he looked up from his preparations. I gasped, “Oh!”
It was my Dad! He stared at me for a moment, then blurted out “Is that you, Henry!” All I could do was sort of hold out my arms in response. He dropped what he was doing and climbed quickly up the metal ladder to the quay. He stopped a couple of paces from me. We stood there looking at one another for what seemed ages, but then, somewhat woodenly, held out our hands for a handshake.
It was no good. As soon as our hands touched, the wooden handshake turned into a warm embrace, quickly followed by tears – both of us. We hugged wordlessly for what seemed forever but was in reality only a few minutes. Then we parted, but he moved his hands to my shoulders and held me at arms length. He looked deeply into my eyes, his own still moist with tears.
“You came!” he said. I just nodded. “I was sort of expecting you, but not so soon!”
“Well, Dad, here I am. I’ve come to see if we can be father and son again – but hopefully deeper and more fully than before!” Before he could say anything, I continued: “Dad, I met your new friend Lucy yesterday, on the train from Truro. And before that, just a couple of weeks ago I became a Christian. Which is what has pushed me to come and find you now. But this way of meeting was not in my thoughts at all. What a heavenly Father we have!” As I said that, I wondered how he would react.
He said: “ Well I’m not entirely sure about that – yet! I’ve still got a lot to process!” he said. “But let’s talk, we have years and years to catch up!” He paused and then continued: “But Henry! Why don’t we go sailing together, the weather is perfect, and look! the boat is just about ready – I even have lunch stowed away which we can make enough for two – I have a big crab that I caught yesterday, some fish my neighbour has just landed from last night’s fishing trip, and some rock samphire that was growing on my garden wall until just now. We could cook them all later on over a fire on a beach somewhere.”
I could feel the tears welling up again. My Dad was presenting me with the father-son adventure we had never managed when I was a child. I managed to nod a “Yes”. He helped me clamber into his boat. “Welcome aboard the “Sir Galahad”. She’s a lug sailed Cornish Crabber.” He grimaced slightly. “My only real friend”, he added.
It was still quite early in the morning as we sailed out of Falmouth. A breezy westerly wind was driving us powerfully in an easterly direction up the English Channel.
So I found myself sailing up the beautiful Cornish coast on a beautiful summer’s day with the Dad who I had never really spent any real father-son time with ever – and hadn’t even spoken to for over 15 years. I felt like pinching myself, the whole story from leaving Scotland until then felt dream-like – and yet I could see God’s hand on it all. Here I was sharing my life with the man, the father that I had never really known. And it was so easy!
I gently asked him how his life had been these last 15 years. He grimaced again. “Empty!” he said with feeling. And then added “Emptiness and frustration and anger. Anger with life, but worst of all,” he said, “anger with myself.
“Have you always been angry, Dad?” I asked carefully. He thought for a while. Then shook his head. He said that the anger had started on the 8 June 1982, the day the “Sir Galahad” was bombed.
“And ever since?” I asked. “No, not always” was his reply.
Before I could press him any further, he pointed to the shore. “That’s Gorran Haven”, he said, “where my little Sir Galahad was built”. We had rounded a small rocky headland and beyond there was a lovely sandy beach. “Shall we land and find a quiet spot to cook our lunch?” he asked.
I nodded. So he continued, “We’ll head for the far end – the beach is called Little Perhaven and the landing there is straightforward – I’ve done it many times before – but always on my own. And never with my son to share its beauty with!”
He trimmed the sail and the boat swung towards the beach. We ran at the beach in an exhilarating dash and reached the shore on a wave, perfectly timed. My Dad leapt out taking with him a little anchor. “Here, give us a hand, Henry! Lets pull her a bit further out of the water!” I found myself knee deep in seawater but quickly waded ashore to help pull the boat well up onto the sandy beach. I was glad I had decided to wear my shorts that morning.
Then Dad said: “Its much easier doing this with you than on my own!”
If only he could have said something like that when I was a boy! I could feel my eyes watering – but not enough to stop me seeing the tears in his eyes too. And then everything stopped as we both hugged each other for the second time that morning.
“Dad, I’m so sorry”. “
Before I could say anything more, he interjected: “You’re sorry! You haven’t anything to be sorry for! It’s me who has to ask you for forgiveness! Years of neglect and rejection! But suddenly Henry, somehow my heart has come alive. Yes, at the moment it’s a very painful process – and yet it’s almost as if all of me has become truly alive . Oh, but son, there is so much unfinished business. It’s almost as if there’s a fresh road opening before me. I think it will be difficult, but the reward will be great. You and me, Henry, can we do this together?”
I nodded. “Dad how I have longed for this relationship, for our lives to be intertwined again, properly bound together, for the rest of our lives. And, Dad – I have already forgiven you! My friend Charlie helped me do it soon after I became a Christian. But to be honest there is still some fear in me that it will not last. This time I want it to be a “Come and Stay” relationship not just for a fortnight but forever.” Then he uttered just two words that meant so much to me – they were: “Me too!” And then he added: “Henry, son, I want to come into your life and stay in your life – and you in mine!” What a conversation! My fearfulness was swept clean away! And yet there was more to come!
So the hugging stopped and the heart-warming conversation stopped and Dad gave his orders – which I just loved receiving. A real father-son relationship!
Dad started his fire and soon set two battered and smoky saucepans of water on it – one for the crab and another, smaller one for the samphire. He asked me to join him on the log. I sat thereon suddenly had a picture of Jesus on a beach, cooking for his disciples. I was aware of the many strands woven into that Bible story, truths we all need to remember (the story is in John’s gospel, chapter 21). I decided to share the story with him. I started to describe the story to him and asked if he knew it. He shook his head.
Then I said that Jesus invited His disciples to share a meal with Him. And the story tells how He understood them and had compassion for them. He could see after a fruitless night of fishing that they were physically and emotionally exhausted – and he provided for them. And I shared how Jesus in His graciousness had stepped into my life and accepted me. And then I talked about Peter, how even though he had rejected Jesus three times, there on that beach Jesus showed Peter forgiveness and reinstated him. Then, somewhat courageously, I said that Jesus wanted to do the same for him too. Then my Dad nodded – slowly but definitely.
Then he said: “Henry, all my life there have been events and people that have succeeded in stopping me from being the father (and the husband too!) that I should have been. I blame myself – other men have had similar experiences and haven’t succumbed as I did. I know that, and I can’t forgive myself for the mess I have made of my life. But the events of these last few days with Lucy and your presence and your words are giving me hope.
I told him about my trip to the garden by Loch Long. As I told him the story he became quite emotional. I shared the whole story and then, as I got to the bit about Sam finding the plaque, I opened my rucksack.
“Dad, I brought something with me to give to you. It is yours and I am returning it to you.”
I reached into the rucksack and produced the plaque. He stared at it for a few seconds then reached out to take it from me, turned it over to read the inscription on the back. More tears!
“Where did you find this? Henry, this was my most prized possession to take home with me as I prepared to leave rehab and return to the world. But then one of the “Sir Galahad’ men, so angry at what had happened on the ship, stole it from my room and apparently threw it into the lake – we didn’t see it go and we never found it again.”
I explained: “My son, your grandson, Sam found it in that lake, Dad. We cleaned it, dried it out and here it is now, returned to its rightful owner.” Dad grasped it, looked at it, front and back, and hugged it.
How we talked as we ate lunch together, just the two of us! Our conversations never stopped. We talked as the aroma of fish and crab grew stronger and stronger. We talked as we ate our lunch. We talked as we made sure the fire was completely out before re-launching the boat into the cove (a harder job now the tide had well and truly turned). We talked as we sailed back to Falmouth and he allowed me to steer his pride and joy. I prayed that I might yet be his pride and joy too!
It was only when we arrived back in Falmouth and we were safely moored and standing on the quayside that we stopped talking. The in silence we hugged. But I knew I must explain that I needed to catch an early train tomorrow morning in order to get to Heathrow for my 15.30 flight back to Scotland. So now would be goodbye. He nodded tearfully, not wanting to let me go. It was one of the most difficult partings of my life!
Then I asked the question: ”Dad, will you come and stay?” He nodded, unable to say anything but with eyes filled with tears again. Eventually he said: “Henry, I would love to! Until now, I have never wanted to, never needed to, leave Falmouth. But now! Please let’s meet again soon, we have half a lifetime to catch up with, lives to live together! And I so want to meet your Claire and the boys! “
“Dad, you will be so welcome. And the boys can experience for the first time what it means to have a grandfather! Oh and the fishing is good too!”
Then he said these words: “Henry, I would love to come and stay. I would love to share your life, to get to know and love your wife and to be a proper grandfather to your boys. But I need to tell you one more thing.”
And he went on to say that as I shared the story of Jesus and his fire on the beach, and I explained some of its significance – he said it was as if a cloak of ignorance and misunderstanding fell from him and he saw clearly that all Lucy had said and prayed over him was true. And he said that the story of how Jesus came into my life made him want that same experience.
Then he said: ”Henry I need to know more – if I come and stay can you explain everything to me! I want to come and stay – with you and Claire, and maybe even with your Jesus!
I journeyed home with a heart so much lighter than the one I had left Scotland with! And a heart full of thanksgiving to God for all he was doing in my life – and my Dad’s!
My Dad was Coming to Stay!
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All references are from the NKJV unless specified otherwise.
John Partis
bearing-kingdom-fruit.com
Text copyright © John Partis 2026
John Partis asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work
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