Thus, coming up on the 10th anniversary of one of the most painful days of my life, I was anticipating that I would again feel thoughtful and yet relatively unaffected. Imagine, then, my complete shock and surprise as for almost a month now I've been feeling extreme sorrow, sadness, joy, loneliness, gratitude, etc, etc. all on account of acknowledging that we've been 10 years without him. Is something as simple as the number 10 enough to cause a different response?
A week ago, in a moment of clarity that came while running (get out and do whatever you've been meaning to, you'll love what happens!), I realized of course not. Of course it had nothing to do with 10. Rather, it had to do with healing that can only come from true and complete forgiveness.
Ten years is a lot of time to reflect back on your relationship with someone. And, as would happen with any relationship, I saw a lot of beauty, and I also saw a lot of pain. Those we're closest to have a great power over us, and sometimes that moves us in a beautiful direction while others it holds us captive. As time has passed since Dad's death, I've struggled with increasingly conflicted emotions as I would remember what an amazing soul he was (is), how much he loved me, how much he taught me, and how much good he offered the world, while also remembering the ways I feel like he let me down, the parts of him that didn't even come close to living up to the perfect pedestal we want to be able to put our parents on, and the parts of him that seemed in direct contradiction to the deeply spiritual faith he was passing on to me. Unfortunately, being a person who fully realizes the world is a messy business but also being a person who wants order in all things is really difficult. And unfortunately, it left me feeling (not thinking or believing, just feeling) the worst things outweighed the best. Additionally, the adult mind is also fully capable of realizing that the child's memory isn't always most accurate, and so then I would just wonder what truth was even really true.
Praise God, our creator knows His daughter, and He knows my father's daughter (my dad liked order almost as much as I do). About the time all this probably could have boiled over whenever I allowed myself to give it thought and acknowledge the frustrated and uncertain feelings I didn't want to have, my mom was here for a visit and as can often happen during late night hours, we got into a very serious and reflective conversation about our family. I got to ask questions that were deep in my soul to the person who held the gift of adult perspective on my childhood. And, considering that since that conversation I've come to a place of true forgiveness, you'd tend to guess that she was able to clarify my confusions and heal my hurts. Surprisingly, it was to the contrary. In that conversation, she actually confirmed my hurts--confirmed the "ugly" aspects of our life, if you will. And I won't lie, for a while that left me reeling. Oh, I was MAD...boy was I mad! But the thing of it is, by facing those hurts dead on (no terrible pun intended), by giving them due credit, and by trusting my memory to be accurate even in the moments I didn't want it to be, I was forced to spend time with it and truly decide what to do about it.
It turns out, one of the things my parents passed on to me is a forgiving nature--as parents like The Father do. It's been almost a year, and several daily runs (have I mentioned that's when I do my best thinking? Go do what you're holding back on!), since that conversation. Through that time to think, I've realized it takes too much energy to be so hurt by those difficulties when what I want is to have back my really close relationship with a man who, in spite of being flawed (aren't we so totally all!), loved me, provided for me, and formed me through both his negative AND his positive qualities. I'm not foolishly trying to put him on that pedestal again, rather accepting him as the human he was and falling back in love with the soul he is. He is my dad, my hero, and my personal soundtrack contributor (truly nothing makes me joyfully tear up faster than hearing certain songs at church that conjure up such clear pictures of him making beautiful harmony with his guitar and a sparkle in his eye, my incredible mother by his side). He was the first man who taught me what it was like to be looked at with love and pride, to make me feel like all the world was right, to believe that I could be who God created me to be.
So 10 years later, I ache for missing him more than pretty much, well....ever. I would NEVER wish it any differently for it's not ours to choose, but rather ours to trust in God's design. Who knows what else would be changed if it wasn't for that loss. Instead, I choose gratitude for being able to accept, and to celebrate his complete humanness. He wasn't perfect, but he did teach me to offer yourself into God's perfection--a love that covers all flaws.
Here's what my dad wrote to us in a card on the day of our oldest daughter's birth, just 3 weeks before he was called home:
"Happy Birth-day to you! As the sun warms the earth so fully on this late winter day February 14, 2004, it also warms my grandpa bones deeply...and I feel the creator's heat of passion. Today, the development of life seems inevitable, given the ubiquitousness of this passion for His creations. This is only matched by the equally miraculous complexity of the creative process that we come to take for granted early on in our lives. Occasionally, events bestir this complacency enshrouding us, just as the snow and ice give way to the solar power. My own faith, hope, and love have been 're-heated' by my granddaughter's birth-day...and I will hold you two responsible! Thank you for carrying on the Creator's gift of life for us all. Love, 'Grammar' and 'Poppy'"
I am blessed!
Peace be with you,
Anne
:) * +
Anne... this really helped me today. I totally look up to you and your family. Thank you SO much for your faithful example and for recording it so the Holy Spirit can use it in my life, too.
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