My Dad passed away tonight. I had not seen him in person since I was 15. I'm 43 now. He wasn't a good man, but most of us, if we're honest with ourselves, aren't. I've taken a fair share of left turns in life. Dad was a lousy husband. He was married 4 times. My mom was wife #3. Wife #1 and #3 had the same name. Wife #2 and #4 had the same name. I think when you're running around with multiple women it must help to limit the number of names involved. I don't know. I've only run around once in my life. I know, I know. Not good. I paid a heavy price, more than you know. Others paid an even heavier price. Beyond his flings with women, my dad was abusive. I can still vividly remember him hitting my mom...and me. When I was younger I had severe asthma. My dad was a multiple-pack per day smoker. That was back before the high taxes were levied, when smoking was "cool." He would deliberately smoke in the house and blow the smoke directly on me, sending me into an asthma attack. There were other things he would do to me that were not good. Finally, when I was 9, he left us.
A few years later, in an effort to get out of paying child support, he tried to get custody of me. That battle went on for years, and did not do anything to endear me to him. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Many times, both when he lived with us and when I was made by a judge to see him, I was in fear of my life. I sure thought he would kill us one day. When I was made to go on visits with him, he would speak terribly about my mom. She, by the way, has been a strong mother. Not perfect, but she has stood by me in the lowest points of my life. Never excusing me, but loving me. I am pretty sure there were times after my dad left that she sacrificed eating in order for there to be food for me to eat.
On the last visit I had with him, he brought wife #4. As soon as I entered the vehicle, I let him know that my mom wanted him to drop me off at her workplace at the end of the visit. Immediately, my dad and wife #4 began speaking nasty words about my mom. I guess at 15 I had enough. From the back seat, I leaned forward with both fists raised. I told him, if either of them said another bad word about my mom, I would hit them. My dad turned the car around, took me to my mom's workplace and told me to get out of the car. I never saw him in person again. He dropped all legal efforts to see me.
As a young adult I carried a fear that he would come back and harm me or my mom. Some of his family members are nuts and had been threatening in the past, so I was concerned about them, too. Years later, I got repeatedly harassed via e-mail by my dad's sister. I carried a lot of hate toward my dad over the years. I made several poor decisions because of it. I missed out on a lot of enjoyment, too.
I made my goal in life to never be like my dad. It sounds good, I know, but I didn't understand that my goal needed to have been to be more like Christ, not just do better than my dad. That wrong goal, I think, really messed up my marriage. It certainly didn't keep me from having an affair. When I was in the middle of mine, I remember thinking, how did my dad do it? I mean, I could hardly look at myself in the mirror. And when I did manage to lift my face, I didn't recognize the man who was reflected at me. I suppose that's where my acting skills came in handy...well that and mystery shopping. We tried to bandage our marriage back together, but for a variety of reasons, it didn't work.
I went through a lengthy period of trying to figure out where and how I went wrong. There was a lot of painful self-reflection. That was when I realized that being better than my dad was a floor, not a ceiling. Those of you who are Christian know when God is putting something on your heart to do. Sometimes it is something we do not want to do. About 6 years ago God put on my heart to write my dad. "No way," I said. I couldn't shake what I believed God wanted me to do though. A year later, I picked up a pen and I wrote one page. I put it away, and another year went by until I pulled it out and wrote more. That time, I wrote 30 pages. I spent many months revising it, then had a friend, a man who has been like a father to me, read it and give me his feedback. I considered his thoughts, prayed, and revised the letter more. I think I must have re-written it 7 times. I got it down to 22 pages. Still, I just didn't feel right about sending it. I put it away, and almost another year passed. Then, one day, I realized that one portion of the letter was bothering me, so I removed it. Then, I mailed it. My dad never responded.
Two years ago I moved back to my hometown to care for my mom. My dad knew I was here, but he made no effort to reach out to me. Last year he won a significant amount of money - so much so that it made the news. Seeing his picture in the media was the first time I saw him since that day I got out of his car. I didn't want his money, but he owed mom over $30,000. I wanted him to do the right thing and pay her so that I could get the bathroom remodeled and make it easier on her getting into and out of the tub. My brother, who was not related to my dad, was actually quasi-friends with him as they both worked in the construction field. When my dad hit the jackpot, he reached out to my brother, and told him to let momma know he was going to make things right with her. Three weeks ago he sent mom $400. So much for making things right.
I am at peace with my dad's passing. It saddens me when anyone dies. Death was never meant to be. But I would not be at peace if I had not followed through in writing and sending the letter. You see, in that letter, I told my dad that I had forgiven him and that I loved him. And I meant it. I also told him about Salvation, which was the most important thing I could have told him. The letter made me vulnerable to him again, and when he didn't respond, it hurt.
The Lord knew what He was doing. Getting me to place where I could forgive my dad and telling him that I had, wasn't so much for my dad, as it was for me. When my brother came over tonight to tell mom and I this news, I didn't burst into tears. I hugged my brother and I thanked him.
I realize many of you will offer your condolences. I appreciate that. It's not the purpose of this post. The purpose is this (and I believe there is somebody here that needs this):
If you are a parent - mom or dad - that neglected, mistreated, or abused your child - if you never apologized or took responsibility for it, please do so. Your child may not forgive you, but it is the right thing to do.
If you are a child of a parent who abused you or hurt you, I am sorry. I encourage you to forgive that parent and tell them you have. Holding that grudge and anger, will only cause you to make mistakes and potentially mess up your life. You certainly won't enjoy it and you won't have peace. By the way, that doesn't mean you pretend nothing happened. To the contrary, there were firm parts to letter I wrote my dad where I specifically outlined things he did that hurt me. If your parent has passed away, it's not too late. Write it out. Go to the grave and speak it. There is a wonderful scene from the movie Courageous where one of the characters does that.
In conclusion, there were some good things about my dad. The man could build and make things. When I was a small child he made a toy box for me. I still have that toy box, and I'm grateful I do. When my bike got stolen, he actually built me a new bicycle. He put white tires on it, I remember being so embarrassed. My dad taught me that when you start a project, you finish it. You do the project right, no shortcuts. If someone pays you to do work, you do it correctly and on-time. If you agree to do a job, you do it. You work your hardest, and then some. And you don't complain.
A few years later, in an effort to get out of paying child support, he tried to get custody of me. That battle went on for years, and did not do anything to endear me to him. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Many times, both when he lived with us and when I was made by a judge to see him, I was in fear of my life. I sure thought he would kill us one day. When I was made to go on visits with him, he would speak terribly about my mom. She, by the way, has been a strong mother. Not perfect, but she has stood by me in the lowest points of my life. Never excusing me, but loving me. I am pretty sure there were times after my dad left that she sacrificed eating in order for there to be food for me to eat.
On the last visit I had with him, he brought wife #4. As soon as I entered the vehicle, I let him know that my mom wanted him to drop me off at her workplace at the end of the visit. Immediately, my dad and wife #4 began speaking nasty words about my mom. I guess at 15 I had enough. From the back seat, I leaned forward with both fists raised. I told him, if either of them said another bad word about my mom, I would hit them. My dad turned the car around, took me to my mom's workplace and told me to get out of the car. I never saw him in person again. He dropped all legal efforts to see me.
As a young adult I carried a fear that he would come back and harm me or my mom. Some of his family members are nuts and had been threatening in the past, so I was concerned about them, too. Years later, I got repeatedly harassed via e-mail by my dad's sister. I carried a lot of hate toward my dad over the years. I made several poor decisions because of it. I missed out on a lot of enjoyment, too.
I made my goal in life to never be like my dad. It sounds good, I know, but I didn't understand that my goal needed to have been to be more like Christ, not just do better than my dad. That wrong goal, I think, really messed up my marriage. It certainly didn't keep me from having an affair. When I was in the middle of mine, I remember thinking, how did my dad do it? I mean, I could hardly look at myself in the mirror. And when I did manage to lift my face, I didn't recognize the man who was reflected at me. I suppose that's where my acting skills came in handy...well that and mystery shopping. We tried to bandage our marriage back together, but for a variety of reasons, it didn't work.
I went through a lengthy period of trying to figure out where and how I went wrong. There was a lot of painful self-reflection. That was when I realized that being better than my dad was a floor, not a ceiling. Those of you who are Christian know when God is putting something on your heart to do. Sometimes it is something we do not want to do. About 6 years ago God put on my heart to write my dad. "No way," I said. I couldn't shake what I believed God wanted me to do though. A year later, I picked up a pen and I wrote one page. I put it away, and another year went by until I pulled it out and wrote more. That time, I wrote 30 pages. I spent many months revising it, then had a friend, a man who has been like a father to me, read it and give me his feedback. I considered his thoughts, prayed, and revised the letter more. I think I must have re-written it 7 times. I got it down to 22 pages. Still, I just didn't feel right about sending it. I put it away, and almost another year passed. Then, one day, I realized that one portion of the letter was bothering me, so I removed it. Then, I mailed it. My dad never responded.
Two years ago I moved back to my hometown to care for my mom. My dad knew I was here, but he made no effort to reach out to me. Last year he won a significant amount of money - so much so that it made the news. Seeing his picture in the media was the first time I saw him since that day I got out of his car. I didn't want his money, but he owed mom over $30,000. I wanted him to do the right thing and pay her so that I could get the bathroom remodeled and make it easier on her getting into and out of the tub. My brother, who was not related to my dad, was actually quasi-friends with him as they both worked in the construction field. When my dad hit the jackpot, he reached out to my brother, and told him to let momma know he was going to make things right with her. Three weeks ago he sent mom $400. So much for making things right.
I am at peace with my dad's passing. It saddens me when anyone dies. Death was never meant to be. But I would not be at peace if I had not followed through in writing and sending the letter. You see, in that letter, I told my dad that I had forgiven him and that I loved him. And I meant it. I also told him about Salvation, which was the most important thing I could have told him. The letter made me vulnerable to him again, and when he didn't respond, it hurt.
The Lord knew what He was doing. Getting me to place where I could forgive my dad and telling him that I had, wasn't so much for my dad, as it was for me. When my brother came over tonight to tell mom and I this news, I didn't burst into tears. I hugged my brother and I thanked him.
I realize many of you will offer your condolences. I appreciate that. It's not the purpose of this post. The purpose is this (and I believe there is somebody here that needs this):
If you are a parent - mom or dad - that neglected, mistreated, or abused your child - if you never apologized or took responsibility for it, please do so. Your child may not forgive you, but it is the right thing to do.
If you are a child of a parent who abused you or hurt you, I am sorry. I encourage you to forgive that parent and tell them you have. Holding that grudge and anger, will only cause you to make mistakes and potentially mess up your life. You certainly won't enjoy it and you won't have peace. By the way, that doesn't mean you pretend nothing happened. To the contrary, there were firm parts to letter I wrote my dad where I specifically outlined things he did that hurt me. If your parent has passed away, it's not too late. Write it out. Go to the grave and speak it. There is a wonderful scene from the movie Courageous where one of the characters does that.
In conclusion, there were some good things about my dad. The man could build and make things. When I was a small child he made a toy box for me. I still have that toy box, and I'm grateful I do. When my bike got stolen, he actually built me a new bicycle. He put white tires on it, I remember being so embarrassed. My dad taught me that when you start a project, you finish it. You do the project right, no shortcuts. If someone pays you to do work, you do it correctly and on-time. If you agree to do a job, you do it. You work your hardest, and then some. And you don't complain.
There is the truth.
Then there is the right thing to say.
Then there is the right thing to say.
Post removed for violation of Forum guideline: No personal insults.