For My Dad

Normally I don't talk a lot about my dad.  It will be 4 years on the 25th of this month since he passed away unexpectedly.  I still remember that day very vividly.  My husband had just been transferred from Chattanooga, TN to Danville, WV.  I was still in Tennessee and was spending the evening with my friend Star, her husband, and her mom.  I first got a phone call from my Aunt, my dad's sister.  She told me my Grandma, my dad's mom, had received a phone call from my little sister saying my dad was in emergency surgery at a hospital in Pueblo, CO.  My sister had received a call from our stepsister who was a surgical nurse at the hospital.  She had instructed my sister not to call anyone, but she called my Grandma anyway.  My Aunt said she'd called the hospital and all they would tell her was that he was there.  HIPPAA laws prevented them from telling her anything else.  While I was on the phone with my Aunt, my little sister called in.  The minute I saw her name come up on my screen, I knew what had happened.  I went into another room, so I wouldn't upset Savannah, who was with me that night.  My little sister was hysterically crying on the phone and just said "Dad's dead.  He's gone."

A million times before this moment, I always expected a moment of relief to wash over me when I would learn of my father's passing.  I was surprised to feel the grief that actually washed over me once it sank in.  My friend Star was such a tremendous help to me.  My In-Laws were gracious enough to keep Savannah (who actually turned 5 months old on the day of my father's death) so I could go to West Virginia to be with Jonathon for a few days.  For days after his death I found myself breaking down.  I'd always known I would never go to my dad's funeral.  I was ok with it, because I'd cut him out of my life long before his death.  For the first time in my entire life though, I felt like he finally understood why I had to break contact with him.

The details don't matter so much anymore, but the man who was my father was a very sick man, mentally.  He used to boast that he was crazy and had the papers to prove it.  Unfortunately, when you don't know how to love your kids in a healthy way, there comes a time when they have to look out for their own mental health and wellness.  That's exactly what I felt like I had to do.  Before I cut him out though, I had to make sure that decision was something I wouldn't have to answer for with the Lord.  I went to my pastor and explained the way I felt.  I felt guilty for feeling the way that I felt.   Who dread's Father's Day every year?  Who looks at all of those ad's in the newspaper and says "I wish I had a relationship like that with my Dad"?  I did.  I will never forget my pastor's response to me.  She said (knowing my father personally) "Yes, God tells us to honor our mother and father.  However, honoring doesn't always mean having a relationship with them.  Sometimes we can honor them by becoming a better person in spite of them."  She then told me about a pastoral counselor who used our church during the week to see clients.  She said the church had a fund set up to help congregation members receive services from this counselor and offered to let the church pay for counseling for me.  I jumped at the chance and spent the summer of 2004 going to counseling every week.  I honestly believe that this was the start of the healing process.

Life isn't always beautiful, but it's a beautiful ride.  I wouldn't change a thing about my life; the decisions I've made or didn't make.  For a few months after my dad's death I wondered if I had known he'd pass away when he did, would I have held on for those last 7 1/2 years?  For awhile I thought, yes, I would have.  Then I realized if I had held on I wouldn't have started the healing process until 7 1/2 years after I originally did.  I can't say that I would have been the person my husband fell in love with, the mother I'd been for those 5 months.  

I no longer have any ill feelings towards my father.  If anything I feel love for him, because I know that he is now ok with the decision I made.  He understands and doesn't hate me for it.  I've had very pleasant dreams of him since his death.  I couldn't say that before his death.  I forgive him for things I had a hard time forgiving him for before his death.  There is such an inner peace in my heart and soul that wasn't there before his death.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am a very musical person.  Music speaks to me and it speaks for me when I can't find the words.  I have a playlist on spotify dedicated to my dad.  Any time I'm thinking of him or I just want to be reminded of him, I listen to it.  There are songs I've selected that represent every part of my life that he touched, including the parts after his death.  I've grieved for the man I wished he could have been before his death and I've accepted the man he was before he died.