Today my dad would have been 60 years old. He’s been gone for 14 years. And even though I have officially been alive without him longer than with him, I still think about him everyday. Even though we didn’t have an amazing relationship, I still miss him all the time. Even though he did a lot of things that hurt me, I forgive him, and I still very much wish he was here.
When you’re missing a dad, there are a lot of milestones you don’t realize you’ll want him there for until he’s gone. There are spaces that were his to hold, and that never really will be filled properly because my dad and his influence in my life are irreplaceable. It’s not until you’ve lost your dad that you realize someone else will have to walk you down the aisle at your wedding. It’s not until after he’s gone that you think about how painful it will be knowing he can never meet your children. He never saw me graduate, high school or college. He wasn’t there the first time I preached in front of my church. He couldn’t tell me, “Congratulations” on my first paycheck or teach me how to drive.
Listen, my dad and I didn’t get along super well all the time. I was always a mama’s girl. If it were possible, I think I would have stitched myself to my mother’s hip as a kid. I just felt safer with mom. Honestly, after I came forward at age 4 about being a victim of sexual assault, my dad detached from me a little. Now, I don’t tell you this to paint him in a bad light! Me and Jesus have worked on this for a long time, and I don’t fault my dad for having no idea how to respond to those circumstances. But just to paint the picture, where I needed a dad who was willing and able to show and teach me safe physical affection, I felt as though he retreated out of fear that he might hurt me. Again, I don’t fault him for this, all has been forgiven, but I think that’s where we started to fall apart.
I remember having genuine sit down conversations with him about how I felt like he favored my sister over me, which was true, but I remember expressing how much that hurt me. To put this all back into perspective again, he passed away when I was 13, so all of this was before I was even a teenager. Back then, my sister was still taking care of him when we would visit. She would follow him around the house turning off burners, putting out cigarettes, making sure he was breathing, and cleaning up food he’d passed out in. I used to be more helpful with this, but I got to a point just before his visits were taken away where I had given up. Dad’s lack of regard for our safety was making me mad, and I stopped feeling bad for him. I became very angry toward him. I can see why Sydnie was the favorite!
I don’t fault my preteen self for feeling this way, but I do wish I had the ability to have a little more empathy then. I know, I was a child, but I wish he was still around because only recently have I discovered the power of an outstretched hand of grace. I wish I had the opportunity to give him a million more chances.
I often think about the irony of now living and thriving in his hometown. I walk the same streets he used to, and mingle with some of the same people he did. Our relatives run into me all the time, and often it’s at church. I wish my dad had the chance to meet the family and community I have found here, mostly, because I have witnessed first hand how the people of my church family respond to addicts in their lowest moments. I literally watched their reactions unfold before me a few weeks ago.
It started with a nod from the security team that someone seemed to be tweaking in the middle of service. Without me or any of our staff members having to prompt what happened next, the beauty of our church member’s instinctive response took my breath away. It all kind of came to a head after the second service, while our supposed tweaking friend sat in a heap of gasping tears while a group of Thrivers sat around her comforting her. At the time, I didn’t know exactly what was happening, so I figured it was being handled, but before I could even catch up on details, a volunteer asked if we could give away one of our first time guest gift cards to her. Next thing I knew, people were hugging her, praying with her, calling the bus for her, and loading her up with snacks and gifts.
The bus didn’t end up arriving for her until around 2pm, but for those in-between hours, a few of us just sat and held space for her. We got her water, let her cry, and asked her about her kids. Eventually we helped her gather her belongings, and as I gave her a hug goodbye, she placed a big, wet kiss on my cheek. Her plan was to check into rehab the next day. I pray that she had the courage to take that step. I have no doubt that she left our time together feeling loved and cared for though.
What I wouldn’t do to give my dad the chance to experience a love like that. As much as I selfishly wish he could have been around to see how much church means to me and all the things I have worked to accomplish here, more than anything, I wish he had the chance to experience the life changing community that I have found here. I wish he had a place where he didn’t feel so broken, so lost, so alone. I wish I had another chance to remind him how much, despite everything, my flaws and his, that he is loved.
To be very clear, I don’t fault my family for the way they loved him. I think he was given a lot of grace and truly cared for by many people close to me. But, I only know my story, and I selfishly, desperately, wish I had the chance to love him for longer.
Growing up and into adulthood without a dad is tough. I 10/10 would not recommend it, personally. Mainly because I just know there was so much life left for him to live, and I think he could have found a way to be so content and happy having a daughter here in town with him and a granddaughter who can now say, “Grandpa.”
I know parental relationships are hard. I know that sometimes parents do and say things that are really hard to forgive, and I’m not telling you that you need to forget those things, but please don’t let those relationships slip away if you still have time. We all have numbered days, and trust me, it’s not worth it to sit on this side of death and think, “I wonder if they really knew what I thought about them? Did my dad really know that I loved him?”
So do me a favor and go spend some time with your folks soon, would you? Take Mom out for Mother’s Day brunch or offer to watch a movie with Dad. Give them each an extra hug and remind them that they are loved, especially by you. Maybe your relationship with them is hurting right now. When was the last time you extended a hand of grace? Is that what your parents could use right now? Grace has been transformational in my life, and when we choose to extend it to others it changes a lot of things. Maybe it’s time to offer some.
You are truly and deeply loved.
And so are your parents
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