ForgottenWoman

Ok – I said it.

I’m painfully aware that as a believer, I’m not supposed to say that I’ve been cheated. With that awareness comes the knowledge that I deserve absolutely nothing and that every blessing of life is a gift from God. I use the words painfully aware, because my head knows these things and yet…

In my human weakness, I sometimes struggle with feelings of being cheated. In those moments, I have to take myself to prayer, to humbly praising God for the many blessings of my life and to renewing my mind – and willing my emotions to follow! I’m guessing that some of my readers are just as frail as I am and may struggle with this as well. So, I share.

This morning, I woke up, and the date of today was flashing like a neon sign in my head. June 10 is one of the days that my body remembers (the body keeps the score). On June 10, 1990, I stood at the foot of my father’s hospital bed in the den of our family home with my siblings and their spouses, my mother, and my grandparents. We talked to Dad and sang to him as his breathing slowed and he took his final breath on this earth. I then gathered my two little boys up, loaded them into my little red car, and drove away while my youngest screamed, “I want my Paw Paw!” and out of the corner of my eye, I saw my father’s body being taken out of the house on a stretcher.

Dad was 48. We had been told when he was 45 that he was terminal, and my young sons and I had spent the past 2 1/2 years being with him as much as we possibly could. I had soaked up his laughter, talked to him about heaven and what it would be like for he and Jonnie to see one another there; hoped to give my sons memories of their grandfather as they played at his side, took beach trips with him and near the end, rode the hospital bed up and down as he invested what he had left into them.

Yes – humanly speaking, I’ve been cheated. Recently, I’ve thought often of how much he would have loved being a part of my children’s lives all of these years. 7 of my children never knew my dad and he never knew them. I wish I could express to them how much he would have treasured them, the things he would have done with and for them, how proud he would be of each of them! They would have gained a special kind of confidence that my father’s support infused into others. They would have seen selflessness in action when around him and they would have learned from his quiet strength and endless giving spirit. They would have watched his ingenuity as he figured out how to make things happen and they would have doubled over in laughter at his stupid (yes, stupid) jokes.

Humanly speaking, I think my children have been cheated. I also think I’ve been cheated. My journey over the past 35 years has been filled with so many highs and lows that would have been sweeter and so much easier had he been here. A father like mine didn’t leave a crack in my life with his death; he left a great gulf. I could trust my father with my heart, my failures, my strengths, and my weaknesses. I could trust him with my needs and with my fears. In his presence, I was safe. In his presence, I was protected. In his presence, I was loved.

One day I’ll stand before the Lord and I’ll worship Him and I’ll praise Him for this life He has given me, for the journey He has allowed me to walk, for every joy and every heartache. Some say we won’t care anymore, but I think I will! I think I’ll enjoy talking about where we’ve been and what we’ve faced and how we managed. I’m going to honestly ask Him why – why was Dad taken so early in my life? Why couldn’t my children and I enjoy his presence in our lives?

This morning, as I recall June 10 so long ago and think about all we’ve missed out on, I’m also counting my blessings and thanking the Lord for the father of my childhood and very young adult life. I am so grateful that by being who he was, he taught me so much about what is important in this life, he pointed me to Jesus, and his love and encouragement gave me the confidence to keep moving after he was gone.

This year, Father’s Day follows on the heels of the anniversary of my daddy’s death and it’s the perfect time to honor him and other men who have stepped into the role of fatherhood with selfless, sacrificial love and leadership. You deserve to be honored. Single moms, please understand that though you carry a heavy load (I understand), you are not both mother and father. You are Mom with a very heavy load.

Fathers, I realize the expectations and weight of responsibilities that you bear are beyond description. I want to encourage you today. My father is remembered and honored in my heart and life today, 35 years after his death, not because of perfection; not because of a list of boxes that he checked every day, not because he never got angry, never made mistakes, never punished us unjustly, sat us down with words of wisdom each night – no. He is honored and remembered today because he loved in such a way that if I had to boil it down to one word, it would be safety. My dad provided safety physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. In a world where everyone is seeking a “safe space,” you can be that for your family. Don’t let them feel cheated while you are still here!