Skip to main content

In honor of the dead beat dad

My husband’s father passed away recently. Although I have experienced death before this time things were different. My husband was raised by a single mother. His dad was present in his life as the part-time weekend dad. He wasn’t an ideal father. He had his short comings as everyone else does. I couldn’t help but think about his past, what he might of endured growing up that cultivated him into the man he was on his death bed. Some would call him a "dead beat dad", not me, he served his purpose. 

When my husband got the call I was sound asleep, and rather than wake me up he went to the other room and once done with the call silently crawled back into bed. Then in the morning he woke up, kissed my forehead and woke me up with, “Good morning mi amor, have a good day”. Once up and ready for work my daughter scrolling through the Facebook news feed read the news that my father in law had passed away. I quickly called my husband and he told me, “I didn’t want to ruin your morning, but I got the call last night” and I just took a deep breath and said, “are you OK?” he said yes and changed the subject to shift my direction that he was at work and needed to get off the phone.

I was surprised, days followed and nothing, just silence. He was his normal self and I worried about how this was affecting him internally. After all it was his dad, good or bad, there is a sense of connection with this man and I wondered what was going on. I know I didn’t marry a cold man; this is the same man who cried as I walked down the isle, he was not heartless. Yet I didn’t see him cry.
As the weekend approached I tried to cancel plans but my husband was insistent that it was business as usual. 

So on Saturday my husband worked all day without a bite to eat, just indulged into his work. That evening was out date night with another couple. Now my husband is not one to get drunk at all, but he had a beer on an empty stomach and became very chatty. I must admit I loved it as he is not one to talk about his feelings; he normally deflects emotions with jokes and laughs his pain away. But he sat back in the car on his way home and told me that the day he got the call of his fathers death he dreamed he was opening the door to a smoldering hot furnace, then quickly followed with, “I do not equate dreams with reality” as he knew my mind sent me into worry.

Then he leaned back and said, 
“Is the world a horrible place without my father? No, it’s probably better without him, but at the end of the day, he still my dad.” 
I couldn’t help it at this point; tears were strolling down my face. Not everyone gets the super hero dad my husband is. Then he said,
 “I couldn’t help but think of the people I knew he hurt, so I thought it would be best that I called them to tell them he was gone and as his son I wanted to apologize for the pain he caused them”.  
That was quite the burden to take on.

Today my thoughts are lost on my husband. That was such a heavy burden to take on but what an honorable way to honor his father. His presence and absence in my husband’s life somehow shaped the amazing man that he is today. My husband has the kind heart of his mother but his amazing gift to create is one that people often credit to his father. He had the best of both worlds  captured in him and he is such a good husband, good father, good friend, so loving and caring, and the kind of man that does things in secret never seeking applause. Would he be that way, had his father been present more? 
Things that make you go hmmmm.

But I will say this; I honor my father in law. He blessed my life tremendously and because of him I see that God makes no mistakes. My Clark Kent walks the earth by my side because of him. Every life has purpose and everyone will fulfill what God desires of them. My father in law may not have been the ideal person, but he left this world leaving some amazing treasures, doing amazing things and for that I honor him.  


Popular posts from this blog

Don’t I deserve to be happy?

I was hurting, severe heartache for a man that I knew God did not want me to be with. I remember yelling at my pastor, “Don’t I deserve to be happy” and he responded back in a way that changed my life forever. He told me you’re not getting what you deserve and you should be happy about that. I often see social media post about how God blessed me, and they posted the keys to a new house, or a brand new high-end car, or a 5-star luxury vacation. Then they sign off on it with, “don’t downplay what God is trying to do in your life, you deserve his good gifts” I have always struggled with this as I know God is a giver of good gifts. I tell my family every day they are a gift from God. But could we be losing sight of what “good gifts” He gives? Let me explain where God has been taking me lately. The gospel is all about the good news, right? The good news that Jesus came to die for our sins, so we don’t get what we deserve. For God so loved  the world that he gave  his one and only So

To the mom of a molested child

Dear Mom, I don't know how to say this to you. I know your hurting and every time I see you cry I feel like its my fault. Every time someone mentions that your going through a hard time, I feel like its my fault. When you cry in the shower, I feel like its my fault. I know your going through something, but this didn't happen to you, it happened to me. I want to be there for you, and I want to help you get through this, but my innocence was taken not yours. I am trying to find myself in all of this, I can't help you. So if I get quiet, if I stay distant, its because I am trying to heal, and I can't heal helping you. I need you to help me. You can't get mad at me, your not allowed. My world fell apart as a child who needs and rely's on your wisdom and guidance to get through this, but if your going to fall apart and make me feel like your pain is my fault than I can't go to you.  I will look somewhere else.  - signed the art of me to scared to say it

Are you guilt-laden?

I have been digging away in the basement of my soul and trying to clean house and I learned something new about myself that I have not always managed well.  Guilt! I know guilt is something God designed to alert us and to drive us to repentance, but if I am honest I can really bury myself in guilt. After all, my worst critic is me. I don’t need anyone to punish me, I punish myself and... I will even go to the extent of refusing God to forgive me. I have gotten better over the years, but let me share with you another painfully transparent story. I was seventeen in a committed relationship with my “baby daddy” and I knew he was cheating on me. I received phone calls from friends warning me. I even got a phone call from the other woman. Let me tell you, looking back, I can’t believe that was me. The other woman called me to ask me to leave my apartment and I didn’t get mad at my baby daddy, I was mad at her. I was ready to fight for someone who didn’t even want to be with