I miss my dad…every day. My parents divorced when I was seven years old and I remember the total annihilation of our family very well. It was an agonizing set of events that would affect the rest of my life. But before this raw set of cards was dealt I had a great relationship with my dad. He was a gifted musician who played classical piano and jazz clarinet with self-taught ease. We would sit in the car and whistle Tchaikovsky as a pair; memories I’ll take to my grave.
But then came the divorce and in an instant, our lives were upheaved. Well into my teenage years, I blamed him for doing this to me. I blamed him for not pursuing me. I blamed him for setting conditions on me that I could not meet. “Come live with me and I’ll pay for your college,” he said.
“Why don’t you just pay for it now,” was always my response. Like a lot of teenagers, I was angry.
I was also adrift and aimless.
At a time when I was searching for identity, searching for healing and hoping to find a place for me where I would fit and be accepted for who I am, I happened to be spending a week with him in Puerto Rico where he lived and owned the restaurant where I worked. What I had found did not gel with the path my dad was on. Years prior, he had questions that the church could not answer so he turned to beliefs that simply did not restore him to a peace that passes all understanding. I had turned to God for my hope whereas he turned to well…other things.
I didn’t realize it at the time but he was just as angry as I was but very much more adrift.
One afternoon, he came to me and said that he would be leaving to spend the night with his girlfriend. He went on to say that she had a daughter that I should go be with as well. I refused.
Given the high rate of crime on the island, it’s pretty common to have burglar bars on your outer doors and windows to keep lawbreakers from breaking and entering. Living in as much fear as he did, my dad had them on the inside. On every bedroom door, window and bathroom. The window bars did not swing or allow for escape. When I refused to go with him, he locked me up inside of the bedroom with no water, phone, food or bathroom. If there had been a fire, there would have been no way for me to escape.
On his way out he yelled, “And that stuff about Jesus dying for your sins…that’s a lie!” I was terrified. I remember pulling the covers over my head and praying that the night would come and go as quickly as possible. I also remember feeling a dread that I had only come to know once before.
But that’s for another time.
As I prayed, I felt a comforting wind. And all of a sudden there was a knowing that someone was thinking of me and maybe even praying for me. I slept soundly that night and woke up the next morning to my Aunt Patty who had come to get me. She said she had been praying for me and felt like she needed to urgently come get me. No one will ever convince me that prayer doesn’t work.
Fast forward a few years and my relationship with my dad slowly got better. It was nurtured over long phone conversations where I did most of the listening and he did most of the talking. He divorced a second time and grew old alone.
He was later diagnosed with advanced Alzheimer’s and was moved into a home. I’ll never forget the look in his eyes when he saw me. There was nothing more to say. He knew beyond a shadow of any doubt that I loved him so very much. He had forgotten a lot but he had not forgotten me. I was grateful for that. What a gift that was. I am grateful for the smile he had on his face when he saw me. I am grateful for the love he showed me in just a look.
And as he went to sleep, he spoke his last words…
The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.He makes me lie down in green pastures.
He leads me beside still waters. He restores my soul.
He leads me in paths of righteousness for His name’s sake.
Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.
You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; you anoint my head with oil; my cup overflows.
Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD…
…forever
A Psalm of David.
As I grew older, I learned truths that I did not know before; not just about my dad but also about the healing power of forgiveness. When I learned to forgive , my heart towards him was softened. When he received forgiveness, his heart as a whole was softened and our relationship was finally restored.
What a gift!
Mucho love,
~L