When my father died in April, I took care of everything. I am the oldest. I needed to be strong. In fact, when my father died...they called ME first...not my mom, not my brother (six years my junior)....me. He passed in Southern California. I live in GA. I made all the calls to my mom, my brother, my father's brothers, my father's friends, everyone. My mom has some issues in addition to being in grief. So, I flew to CA and shopped for morturaries alone. I shopped for caskets...alone. I planned the funeral....alone. All this I did with not much emotion. I was on autopilot. Get it done. I sang at my father's funeral and did not shed a tear...who does that????
My father and I had a 50/50 relationship I will call it. Half of my life was not good. The other half (once I got married and moved out) was great. We became best friends. It is the before that haunts me. I feel robbed that I didn't have my dad for 36 years of my life...only 15. My father was funny, very intelligent, silly at times and always there when you really needed him. The other side of my dad was the darker side. He had a horrible temper that came out on me on occasion. He was depressed (I believe, undiagnosed). He had a low self image and he did not know what to do with a lil girl. As a child, my affections were considered yucky and I was pushed away...in a funny way...but I was pushed away. Unfortunately for my dad, I was a lot like him,. That meant I didn't let him bully me around. I fought back and stood up for myself, but eventually he would win. He always did...after all he was 6'4'' and 200+++ pounds. I look back and think...why didn't he pick on someone his own size??? One thing I must say for my dad though...he always said he was sorry. I believe he meant it.
As a teenager, I remember locking myself in the bathroom to get away from him and crying and sobbing wishing he would die. Other times, he would make me laugh so hard, I would pee my pants. When he got a rare form of cancer, we were best friends. I thought...God, I begged you to take him away when I was young...but I didn't mean it. He had changed over the years, softened. I loved my dad....faults and all. I had a better heavenly father who taught me how to forgive. I did. I forgave him when I got married. Our relationship changed for the better.
As messed up as our parents can be...they are human. I can see that my dad's dad treated him hard. He was not around a lot cause he was away in the war. It is not an excuse for what my Dad did...but through grace and understanding I can forgive him. I am so glad I did. The last days we had together I wouldn't trade for the world. Just think what would have happened if I didn't forgive and he passed. Sometimes you have to swallow your pride, let God change your heart, in order to fix relationships. Sometimes you have to be the bigger person, because for whatever reason your parent is not able too. Let me encourage you to pick up the phone or knock on the door of that relative you are mad at or can't forgive. Just tell them you love them and miss them. Don't hash out the past. Forgive and move on. Life is too too short and precious to hold a grudge. Do it before it is too late to tell them. We could all be dead in a second. Blessings!
