Sunday, August 28, 2011

Memories

My friend just wrote a piece about her mother's passing.  I have experienced several losses recently.  My mother-in-law passed 4 months ago and my step-dad 2.  I got to show up very differently for the people in my life during those losses than I did at my fathers passing several years ago.
  
I don't remember how many years it has been, but I do remember the call that he was gone.  I let out one long screaming noooooo!  In hindsight I think regret for all of the things left unsaid between us came out in that scream.  When I arrived at my parents house - my mother was standing in the hallway.  She started to cry when she saw me and blurted out "the bastard did it on purpose."  And then we fell together and cried and laughed - because my mother never swore, and my Dad had died on of all days - their wedding anniversary.

I stayed most of the day with my Mom, but then left to go bowling with friends.  I did what I had done my whole life - what my dad had taught me - pull yourself up by your bootstraps - no use crying over spilt milk - just keep putting one foot in front of the other - it could always be worse....  So I shut off the feelings until the funeral - had a moment of uncontrolled weeping when I hugged his oldest and best drinking buddy, and then that was it.  It was done.  Sealed.  Over.

When my father died - I was freefalling.  I no longer had anyone to please or fight against.  No one telling me right from wrong, judging my actions and finding them pleasing or lacking.  A few months before he died I remember coming to him with yet another problem asking what I should do and his response knocked the wind out of me - "I don't know."  It scared me because if he didn't know, how would I know?

My mother sent me a copy of the letter my father had written to all of us girls before he died.  He apologized for not being the father he should have been.  For not giving us the guidance and example a good christian father should have.  I know it was his way of trying to make amends, but I hated it.  I wanted to rip it into pieces and yell at him - he got to say his peace but I didn't - I guess some things never change.   

It wasn't until a few years ago that I started to understand the impact that growing up with an alcoholic father had had on my life. Why I had moved so many times, couldn't stay in a job for long, or had so many relationships that didn't last.

There are a lot of negative things I learned from my father that I am now unlearning.  What I know now is that I had a choice in carrying them with me through my life.  I am now able to see that I learned a lot of wonderful things from my father and I am choosing to be grateful to him for those and replace the negative ones with them.  I know how to work hard, tell the truth, and be kind and generous to others... and for me the best gift of all was a sense of humor.  The ability to laugh -even through the tears.

My father was an alcoholic.  He had a disease.  He loved us the very best he could... and I loved him - that is enough.

 

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