Syd dropped her dusting cloth and looked at her precocious child. And so it began and they became entertainers.
They had been a hit and now several years later, with her own traveling dance band, Syd stood on stage looking confident and beautiful, but falling apart inside.
It was foolish to come home to play for this dance, just in case he'd be here, she worried. I got my answer years ago when he left me, pregnant and alone. However, later in the evening, her eyes met the stare of her lost love.
Merry D's song ended, and she ran off the stage after taking her bow as the dancers applauded and cheered, then it was time for intermission. The band members put their instruments down and left the stage and Syd stood alone. In her white outfit, Western boots and hat, perfect fitting pants, a spangled shirt adorned her slim figure. Which matched her traveling bus parked right outside.
The man in a gray suit and hat approached the stage, then stood silently searching her face. Finally in a angusished whisper he asked, "She's my daughter isn't she?"
"Yes, Miles, she is." Sydney answered warily.
"Syd," he exclaimed. "I never knew!" "I never knew," he repeated sadly. "I left here years ago after an agrument with my folks. This is the first I've been back here and now they're gone."
Syd stood there, her heart in shambles.
He went on, "I was going through some old papers of theirs and found your letters. I know they would have sent them to me, but I never wrote to them to let them know where I was."
Her heart pounded out of control. Should and could she believe him?
"Is there a chance Syd? I've waited hoping I could find you someday. Somehow."
Maybe, she thought.
"I bought my own farm in North Dakota. It would be perfect for our daughter to grow up there," he continued hopefully.
After the doubts and uncertainties subsided, Sydney Joyce smiled. He hadn't known and hadn't meant to hurt her by disappearing. She stepped off the stage and they embraced.
Finally after all these years, her mission had been accomplished and Merry'D had found her very own daddy.
-Lyn Miller Lacoursiere
Some of this was told to me by my mom, then too, some could have been my own fabrications after reading her forebiden "True Story" magizines.