Here I sit, quietly in my room thinking about the day. Father's Day.
I love my dad. Sometimes I wonder if I would fall into the "Daddy's Girl" category. My dad has never spoiled me. My dad has never given me everything I have asked for, but what I have been given, he's made me work for. I respect that about him. I know he loves me...and his love usually comes with a lesson. Sometimes I grasp it immediately, but sometimes it takes several years to comprehend.
I was very fortunate to have the opportunity to spend my childhood years living next door to my grandparents. Not that this is my story to share, so I'll tread lightly...but my grandpa and my dad didn't have the best relationship during those years. It was a classic case of one never being able to do/be "good enough." As I look back at those years I can see images...flashes of two broken men. One wanting to be a loving father but not really sure how, and another of a son, desperately wanting to have a solid "father/son" relationship with his dad.
This atmosphere spilled over into our household. Growing up with two and a half brothers (I say that because my youngest came several years down the road) there were many moments under our roof when words were exchanged and physical and emotional blows were thrown around like a violent hurricane. Again, I see the images of broken men. One of a father wanting to avoid being a reflection of his father but not knowing how, and the other of two young boys, looking up to their dad with such great admiration, desperately wanting to be the sons their dad could be proud of, yet always feeling as though they "fell short."
Thankfully, the years have come and gone and that stage of life has been outgrown. It wasn't an easy transition. The good news is, it's not then. The bad news is, those years will be remembered forever.
Almost two years ago, I saw my dad broken yet again as he stood over his father's casket prior to being lowered into the ground. The few moments we stood at the cemetary I was flooded with memories from the past 35 years. Three generations. Years of frustrations, fatigue, and failures. One has to wonder. Were there more hurts than hugs? How much love actually poured over into their lives?
I know my dad loved his dad. And I know my brothers love our dad. Sadly though...those emotions...that affection doesn't come full circle until someone passes away.
As we sat at the dinner table today, my mom suggested we pray. At that moment, she began to sob as she thought of her dad not being here. And then my dad said, "Well my dad's not either." As we were giving thanks for fathers, I sat next to my little guy and wondered "What in the world goes through his little mind on a day like today?"
Most people who have lost their fathers, have lost them to death. My son has a "father"...but a father who has chosen not to take part in his life.
BUT... (I love it when there are "buts" to the story)
Nick has had an amazing man to look up to in his grandpa. He wants his grandpa to be proud of him, and he lives for those moments when he can grab whatever time he can with him.
I have three brothers, all who have contributed at some point in time and in some way or another to Nick's life. Each in their own way. Nick admires them, he respects them, and the two that are fathers, are incredible fathers. They are great role models for my son.
And then there are the men at church who have made a commitment to invest time in Nick's life. The Bible says to look after the widows and orphans and I never really considered my child to fall into this category, but he does. And the male influences that God has chosen to use in his life are amazing. And I am grateful.
So Happy Father's Day to all the men out there. Fathers, brothers, sons, and friends. And thank you...thank you for being such a blessing in our lives!
Sunday, June 20, 2010
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