You're listening to an iHeart Podcast. subject to terms and conditions.
Details at Lowes.com slash terms, subject to change. Did you know women are more likely than men to develop dry eyes, which may be due to hormonal changes during the menstrual cycle or after menopause and the use of oral contraceptives? Give your dry, burning or irritated eyes a daily refresh with Refresh Optive Mega 3 Lubricant Eye Drops, a preservative free formula that provides fast acting lasting relief. Refresh Optive Mega 3 is safe to use as often as needed.
Find refresh online or in the eye drop aisle at all major retailers. Get this adults with financial literacy skills have 82% more wealth than those who don't. From swimming lessons to piano classes, us parents invest in so many things to enrich our kids lives.
But are we investing in their future financial success? With Greenlight, you can teach your kids financial literacy skills like earning, saving and investing. And this investment costs less than that after school treat.
Start prioritizing their financial education and future today with a risk free trial at greenlight.com slash iHeart greenlight.com slash iHeart. Clean water access helps kids soak up childhood. Girls can be in class instead of walking hours for water. Kids can be climbing trees and skinning knees instead of being sick with waterborne diseases.
Sponsor a child at worldvision.org slash water for kids and help ensure access to life changing essentials like clean water. The best moments happen when you're with your people laughing, vibing and just enjoying life. Coke is making those moments even sweeter. Shara Coke is back and it's all about sharing with the whole crew. Doesn't matter if it's your bestie or bro, there's a can with their name on it. So grab one for the squad and make some memories. But hurry because these Coca Cola limited edition bottles and cans won't be here forever.
Don't miss your chance to share a Coke with all your favorite people. And we return to our American stories. Up next, another story from our regular contributor from Kodiak Island in Alaska, Leslie Leland Fields. Today, Leslie shares a deeply personal story entitled Forgiving My Worthless Father.
Take it away, Leslie. I never called my father worthless. That was his own word for himself. But in a way, he was right. I was on the phone with him.
He had had a stroke. I told him I was flying down to see him from my home in Alaska to a rehab facility in Florida. I'll be seeing you in about three weeks. I said to him, I spoke loudly and tried to make my voice cheerful to infuse some kind of joy into his life. And that's what he said. I'm not worth it. Of course, you're worth it.
I answered back instantly. But you know, in some ways, he wasn't wrong. In the whole human balances of justice and fairness, he hadn't done anything to deserve this kind of sacrifice and attention from his children. He couldn't or wouldn't hold or wouldn't hold a job, which left us deeply impoverished and ashamed throughout our childhood. Our food was sparse. Our homemade clothes were worn out.
We got one pair of shoes a year, all that. But even more than that, he didn't seem to be able to form relationships. And he treated us as children as though we were invisible. And soon after, we grew up and left our house. My parents divorced. He moved to Florida to live by himself thousands of miles from all of us.
And I was glad. Over the next 30 years, I saw my father maybe three times. And it was always me traveling thousands of miles to see him. He would never have come to see me. And every time I flew down, I went needy and hopeful that he would see me, express interest in me, show some kind of affirmation.
But it never came. He would barely speak to me. And when he did, sometimes he just ridiculed my faith. He claimed to be an atheist. The last time I saw him, I decided I'm done.
I'm never going back. But then he had a stroke. He was maybe 84 then. And in spite of my vow, I did go back. I flew down from Kodiak to be with him just the two of us. He was in a rehab facility by then.
So I flew into Orlando, rented a car, drove to the facility, my stomach fluttering, wondering who I would find, what would be left. The last time I saw him, he had all his faculties. Yeah, he walked painfully slowly with a walker. But he was upright and cogent, even though he never said very much. But that was normal. And I knew something was wrong with him, even as a child.
But it took me many years to find the name for his detachment, his inability to love others, even his own children. This day, I walked through the automatic doors of the rehab facility. I stopped at the front desk, found his room number, and I started down the hallway so slowly, just inching down, dreading what was next. I found his room. Then I peered around the doorway.
It was a room for two. There was one figure I could see lying curled on the bed. And then through a half-open curtain, I could see another man in a wheelchair. So I walked in, trembling. It was my father on the bed. He was lying on his side, curled knees to chest. He was wearing shorts. His jaw hung open. I could see that all his teeth were gone now. He was much thinner than the last time I saw him, but his legs were still solid and muscular. But what do I do?
What do I know about this, visiting the sick, the elderly, a father? I felt like I was supposed to know, but I didn't. He was sleeping. I had come 5,000 miles, and my time was short. I didn't want to wait. I inched closer to the bed, deciding then I would wake him if I could. So I touched his shoulder through his thin shirt and watched his face. I held my fingers there for a moment, and he blinked. Then his eyes opened.
He was looking directly at me without moving his head. And when he saw me, his eyes filled with tears. And still looking right at me, he began to weep, his whole body shuddering as he sobbed, his head still lying on his hands. I froze. I'd never seen my father weep, or even teary or sad.
He seldom showed any emotion. I felt torn in half. My own face crumbled, and I kept my hand on his shoulder to comfort his racking body. And there we were, both shaking in silent sobs. I knew he couldn't speak or name all the sorrows that shook him, but it seemed to me that we wept for his long, sad life, for his breaking body, his tangled mind, and a tongue that was now nearly stilled. And I cried, but I had not seen him sooner. I cried for 30 years of absence from his life.
We were crying for all that was lost to us both. And even in that moment, I realized the stroke had rendered him more fully human than I'd ever seen him. And in that moment, I saw my father through eyes of mercy and kindness.
And I was sad as well. Did it really take a stroke to render him worthy of compassion? The next day, I was gently pushing his wheelchair down the hall. I shared meals with him, watched TV with him in his room, read to him. And through all of that, I couldn't shake the injustice and inequity of it, that every gift and kindness I gave to him, he had never shown to me. But something else was stronger, a desire to forgive. I could see him through eyes of compassion now, rather than through my own needs as a daughter. A few days later, I had to leave and return home.
But after that visit, I began to pray for him, to call him regularly, and to send him letters and even gifts. We often think that the cost of forgiving is too high, but we don't consider the cost of not forgiving. I found relief in releasing his debts against me, especially as I realized that my father could not pay what he owed me.
Nor can many parents. You can't shake money or love out of someone who has bankrupt themselves. And I found the yoke of forgiveness was lighter than the yoke of hurt. And you know what happened?
That love came back. One day, he called me amazing. On one of my birthdays, he called me.
When I came to visit, he didn't want me to leave. Forgiving my father changed me. And one forgiveness has led to others and to my own apologies to those I know I have hurt.
And all of this is moving me toward the person I want to be. My father was touched as well. And in the last two years of his life, my worthless father was touched by me. In his life, my worthless father was surrounded and blessed by the very ones he had harmed. And I believe that he felt loved.
Perhaps for the first time even. I know we cannot heal all the broken families of the world, but we can begin here with ourselves and our own families. With God's forgiveness and love, anything is possible. The story of Leslie Leland Fields and her father.
A love story in the end here on Our American Stories. Behind every successful business is a vision. Bringing it to life takes more than effort. It takes the right financial foundation and support. That's where Chase for Business comes in.
With convenient digital tools, helpful resources, and personalized guidance, we can help your business forge ahead confidently. Learn more at chase.com backslash business. Chase for Business.
Make more of what's yours. The Chase mobile app is available for select mobile devices. Message and data rates may apply. JPMorgan Chase Bank NA. Member FDIC. Copyright 2025.
JPMorgan Chase & Company. There's an efficient way to get caught up on a lot of news. It's called The 7 from The Washington Post. It's a newsletter and podcast. Whether you're reading or hit play, you get seven stories you need to know, and you can consume it all in just a few minutes. The 7 is out every weekday morning by 7 a.m. Eastern. I'm Hannah Jewell. I'm one of the writers, and I host the show. Find The 7 podcast wherever you're listening.
The newsletter link is waiting for you in the show notes. Did you know women are more likely than men to develop dry eyes, which may be due to hormonal changes during the menstrual cycle or after menopause and the use of oral contraceptives? Give your dry, burning, or irritated eyes a daily refresh with Refresh Optive Mega 3 Lubricant Eye Drops, a preservative-free formula that provides fast-acting, lasting relief. Refresh Optive Mega 3 is safe to use as often as needed.
Find refresh online or in the eye drop aisle at all major retailers. Toa Ina. We all know that water is life. An average American household consumes over 300 gallons daily. 40% of Navajo families residing on a reservation the size of West Virginia struggle to survive on less than 10 gallons of water per day. Yearly St. Bonaventure Indian Mission and School delivers over 1.5 million gallons of clean water to these families.
You can help support St. Bonaventure's water delivery program by going to stbonaventuremission.org. Spring is here and you can now get almost anything you need for your sunny days delivered with Uber Eats. What do we mean by almost? Well, you can't get a well-groomed lawn delivered, but you can get a chicken parmesan delivered. A cabana? That's a no. But a banana? That's a yes.
A nice tan? Sorry. Nope.
But a box fan? Happily, yes. A day of sunshine? No. A box of fine wines?
Yes. Uber Eats can definitely get you that. Get almost, almost anything delivered with Uber Eats. Order now. Alcohol in select markets. Product availability may vary by Regency app for details. You're listening to an iHeart Podcast.
