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Since I started checking out the various blogs I’ve found two posts that really dealt with me in an area I prefer to avoid. Fathers. Early last week I read a post from A Free Spirit Butterfly in which she talked about America's fascination with BASEBALL! I thought baseball?!?!? What she talkin’ ‘bout baseball for?!?!? Well it wasn’t about baseball; it was about dad’s excitement over being able to share one of his loves with his girl. I was happy for her; happy with a touch of envy. Then my blogging inspiration, Attorneymom, posted a wonderful tribute to her Father. She was even able to describe the soul of her father not just the looks. I felt heaviness for AM and prayed for her. But; still a little envy. Don didn’t write much but he did say of his own father that he missed him. I felt for Don but still with envy. I only miss not knowing what could have been if I had pursued a relationship. On August 6 of 197sumthin I celebrated my 5th birthday and my father was already gone back to
This is toooo loooong but if your still here, Thanks.
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I'm crying at work and it's what Oprah calls the "ugly" cry. I never liked baseball or tennis and now that I have my dad in my life, I love both. I too was envious of others until I found him in 2003. Now that we're being painfully honest here, I dated two men who had daughters and I couldn't understand the resentment I felt when they were just showing love and affection towards their girls. I never got that growing up and didn't realized that even as an adult woman, I still craved it. Part of the reason that my relationships failed, I was looking for men to give me what daddy didn't. Once I found my dad, I felt 2 years old and cried myself to sleep. Men truly don't know the affect that leave on the daughter's when they abondon them. I can feel your pain as it relates to wanting them both to share in your wedding day. My mom and I had issues most of our lives and she did not attend my wedding but that's another story. I read once somewhere that if you write a letter to someone in heaven it does bring closure. Write a letter to Sam and store it some place special and then God willing, you can give it to him when "you get there". Thanks so much for this post. I'm going to print it and put it in my "Happy Box" Peace and blessings!
ReplyDeleteI'm sorry, I forgot to say great picture. Save it and frame it for a future wedding gift!!!!
ReplyDeleteGood morning, I love the new look. Blue is known to be calming to the SOUL. Have a GREAT day!
ReplyDeleteSLC...this post hits so close to home for me. I too had a father who had many children, one before his first wife (my mother) and 4 after the marriage to my mother was over. He too like your father took care of none. He was very abusive and an alcoholic. It was once very painful to speak my fathers name due to the sexual absue I sufferred at his hands...but to God be the Glory, I am made whole. My father died when I was 15 years old and I must be honest here I was relieved! His death gave me so much peace just knowing that I wouldn't see him again, but my soul wasn't free, SLC. It took seven long years to actually forgive my father, although he wasn't alive.
ReplyDeleteI know now, that it was the act of forgiving that freed me and I too hope to see him again and wrap my arms around him and tell him that I understand now that the genarational curse were never broken. God reveals everything in due season. Forgiveness is a mighty tool!
Wow! Such powerful comments.
ReplyDeleteMy father was an alcoholic as well. He was there for me when he could be. He knew I did not like his drinking, so he would not come around when he wasn't right. We were still best friends and I talked to him about everything. He is the reason I love sports and music. Whenever the Yankees were in town, he would take me to games.
On November 23, 1998 my daughter and I were calling him to tell him happy birthday. We called all day and he never answered. Later that night we got a call from his landlord telling us that he was found dead in his apartment. Finding out my father had passed away on his birthday was the worst moment of my life.
Even though he wasn't always there, I know that my father did the best he could. The disease of alcoholism is powerful. His father had it as well.
I have a lot of good memories of my father and those are the ones I choose to think about. He was the one person i've always felt I could talk to about anything.
I really miss my father and hope that he is looking down on me, smiling and saying, "Good job Bugalou."
I agree with the post by free spirit butterfly, she writes with great conviction. I sense the same in your writings.
ReplyDeleteI think if I really were to open up about my father it would force me to come to grips with the fact that, although he died when I was only 8 (he was 29), and we lived in two different cities, I am much like him, both good and bad. His mother, my grandmother, she raised me up until the day of her untimely death. He was my father, she was my dad.
You took after the preacher - good choice I do believe. I didn't necessarily break down and cry either, once I learned of his murder.