Anguish and Miracles

I have had no relationship with my father in almost twenty years. That reality dwells inside me like a dull roar. Sometimes the days stretch into months as the roar lies dormant as if asleep, granting peace. In those times, the non-relationship is non-existent-I, like Athena, was not birthed, but sprang from my dad's head full grown in full armor, ready to do battle in life. No need for the influence of a father's wisdom. Other days, I'm constantly reminded that I am indeed Richard's child.

My beloved will say something to prompt an ocean of memories, each one rising up in waves then subsiding, giving way to the next, man he reminds me of my dad sometimes! For the most part though, I manage to keep my disappointments and hurts at bay, but inevitably the storm clouds roll in, boiling to a squall and I want to deny daddy's existence. Oh gawd do I HATE that man. Then I'm mad because I can't stay angry long and am ashamed because of the intense negative feelings I within. Doggone it! Then I laugh, because through the jigsaw of my emotions I realize that for all his 'stuff' he has taught me well, or maybe, I have learned well.

In this twenty year period, his mother, sister, and a brother have departed the earth. With each passing, I have secretly hoped the dwindling of his family would galvanize him to action; realizing life is too short to hold onto, WHAT? Can you even remember what you're mad about in the first place? And is it really THAT important? More important than love, more important than me, your girl child?

The bottom line is this: I love and miss my dad. I want to just hug him, for us to let go of past hurts and accusations and be a part of each other's lives. Hear his outrageous opinions on the latest scandal; ooh and ah over his latest wood creations; see him and my life partner share hearty laughs at my expense-for there would be many!

I have tried to reach out over the years in various ways including the sending of cards. I was especially proud of one I found that was so simple and beautiful, as if it was written expressly for me to him. I added if he would be interested in having a relationship to please call. His was a terse response, saying a relationship was already established and cited Webster's definition: Relationship-a connection by blood or marriage. Wow. Not exactly what I had in mind, but apparently for him it's sufficient. So I am learning to make due with our past and hug it: the jokes long told, the conversations already had. Sometimes I truly accept this reality as this is the way it is. Period. He just is not interested. The end.

I have two dear friends who have similar circumstances. When sharing our stories we gain temporary comfort in knowing that our dads are kindred spirits and that we're not crazy, our dad's just are. Misajon and her dad have graduated though, enjoying a relationship that speaks to their understanding and acceptance of each other. Time I believe, has mellowed him; he's chosen to slay other dragons and not his daughter. On the other hand, I thought the relationship my friend Laura had with her dad was beyond repair in this lifetime. I was convinced there was no way they could bridge the ever-widening chasm between them.

Laura had the daunting task of relating to a father with deeply, and I mean deeply embedded racist views. And to exacerbate the situation, her mom shared them as well. I've often teased Laura about having been Black in previous lives, but the greater truth is she walks in such a state of Grace. She's comfortable with all people no matter what culture or race they outwardly wear and connects on a Soul level. It was hard to believe that this lovely being is the product of people who made comments like: "you're going to turn into one of them" or "this world is going to be filled with brown-skinned people"; "the whites are going to be in the minority", and the list goes on. Hearing them makes me cringe.

The remarks were shared in response to Laura's constant association with African-Americans from roommates to boyfriends. At dinner in a restaurant her mom asked, "aren't there any nice white men you see?" This, while knowing she had a boyfriend! The bigotry was endless and came to a head when Laura met her future husband who is of course, African-American. So blinded by hate for beings in human of another hue, her dad couldn't see the extraordinary light his child radiated which only magnified when she fell in love.

Laura chose to tell her parents of her engagement one day after church, thinking (more like hoping) they would be filled with God's Love & see with a new vision. She handed a picture of her betrothed to her dad who in turn threw it down and told her "you know how I feel about this," and walked out of the room which led Laura to eventually sever ties with him.

So steadfast in his beliefs, her dad held on regardless that members on both sides of the family including his own BROTHER embraced her fiancé James, and were genuinely happy for the couple. My heart went out to Laura and I shared her pain. All you want to do is live your life and be happy. And you want your daddy.

I admired my friend because throughout she never badmouthed her dad. Interestingly enough within my own psyche I was absolutely appalled by what he would say, but I found I couldn't be angry because I saw him through her eyes. Love, the Omnipotent Entity that keeps this world from imploding is a beauteous thing.

The marriage took place without her parents and the two commenced their life together. It was their custom to celebrate the holidays at her brother's home, and on one particular year her parents called to offer their good wishes. After talking to about half the family, they hung up. When the phone rang again, Laura's niece answered and then handed it to James; Pap wanted to speak with him! Fearing it was a gross mistake with malevolent intentions, Laura rushed to the front of the house to lend support to her man and to do battle if necessary. A loud hush descended as the family hung on and James took the phone. Dumbfounded, all stood as Laura's dad introduced himself and said he wanted to start the year off on a positive note then wished his son in-law a Happy New Year. He acknowledged how difficult it was having had no contact with his daughter, and did not want to continue alienating James. He expressed his desire to meet in person for the first time in almost 3 years. Then Laura's mom got on, reiterating what her husband said.

When Laura shared this miracle with me I cried. So filled with joy at this amazing turn of events yet juxtaposed with so much anguish and envy because I felt left behind, the only way I could process it was through tears. Here is a man who transformed a lifetime of bigotry through the undeniable love for his baby. What's my dad's excuse? Why is his pride more important? Does he ever think about me? How can he continue to deny the very existence of his offspring? And how does he continue to justify his self-righteous indignation?!

I do not have the answers to these questions, but I do know how I feel. I know I feel peace by claiming my love for him as opposed to the days when I professed sheer anger and contempt. It is a freeing gift to forgive, and even though I struggle with the loss of the relationship, I realize that it's a part of my Journey and has brought valuable life lessons in spite of the pain. I have witnessed the Healing that Love brings. I choose to Love. And to Hope. It creates miracles.