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

Three steps to Purity- By the Recycled Virgin

So… I looked up the word recycle, and this is what I found. Return (material) to a previous stage in a cyclic process Maybe Recycled virgin isn’t the best name, but in reality looking back that’s exactly what was happening.
I was a single mom, abandoned to raise her kids alone, carrying trauma, and still fighting to attain her dreams. What were those dream? I am still trying to figure that out. But writing would surely be one of them. Sadly I put it on the back burner more often then I should. But I digress, let’s go back to recycle.
I wanted to offer something that I thought you might want to revisit if you’re on this journey of purity. And when I say purity, I mean purity of mind, body and soul. Cause let’s face it if you don’t take control of your thoughts your thoughts will take over and can literally kill you. Its more than just sex, lust and all that good stuff we are holding out for, for our husbands. It’s about our minds, our thoughts. So I thought I share a few things I did to…

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
Very few…

He waited for me to get divorced

I sat at the court house recently watching a judge pound the gavel on the table saying, “Marriage dissolved good luck to you…. Next case”
I was there to support a friend because I remember what it was like. I remember everyone being so happy that I was finally divorcing, all except me. I felt like a failure and my kids were hurting. I wanted to mourn my marriage and they wanted to celebrate it, so I went alone. Time drags while you are waiting. I was sitting completely alone and inside me the thoughts consumed me, caused my hands to shake, then my stomach to turn and my chest to tighten. By the time the judge called us my head was cloudy and before I knew it the gavel was in the air about to strike, and my throat wanted to scream, “I’m not ready” but I stood there quietly as fear gripped me that all the years that I invested was over with the strike of his gavel. 2.2 seconds changed what felt like a lifetime of trying to make it work. 
When you’re alone, isolated from the world in y…