Skip to main content

The last time I saw him was Valentine’s Day.
I was at work and my ex husband came to pick me up. My manager approached me told me that I needed to go home, it was a family emergency. As I walked to the car I felt my body going numb and my thoughts taking over. Funny how fear can creep into your body and take over. My ex husband  pulled over and said, "Your dad died". I had no control over my response, my eyes flooded and I screamed, and I screamed. I don't remember how long I sat there screaming. My ex hugged me and and asked me to breath and it was then I realized I was screaming. I tried to get a grip and I was grateful we were in the car on the side of a desolate road, as I am not one to cause a scene. I don't like attention like that. Then I went silent and my eyes gazed at every passing house, car, store, and person we drove passed. I remember every single thing I saw and my body did not move and my breathing was short.

When My ex pulled up to the house, they were pulling my dad's body out in a body bag. I didn't get to say good bye. I don't remember him stopping the car, or even myself getting out of the car. All I remember was a viscous tug of war over a body bag with the guy taking my dad. He grabbed my hand and said, "Don't do this". Right then I turned around and realized my entire neighborhood was standing on their porches watching me scream and fight over the body bag. Instant embarrassment kicked in, "what was I doing?"

I walked upstairs like a zombie as my mind flooded with memories of seeing him at the top of the stairs saying. "Hi" and I giggled cause for a moment I was trapped in my imagination. Outsiders looking in must have thought I was crazy. Then I was awakened by my mom's hug, and her asking me to help her plan his funeral.

Just like that I went into what I do best, be busy and forget what happened. Focus on the task. I planned everything, shook hands, greeted people, cooked dinners, helped other people mourn my dad.

My dad wasn't a great dad. He was an abusive alcoholic who did horrendous things to me while intoxicated. But he was my dad. I remember as a kid wishing and praying for bad things to happen to him because I was so scared of him. As a toddler he was my everything, but once I hit eight years old he changed with the drink and so did my love for him.

So why was I so hurt? Because in the same way he changed when I was eight, he changed again when I was in my teens. He went to church one day as he was a regular church goer but on this one day he read the bible and the words jumped at him and gripped his soul.  He had to sit down as he felt that God spoke directly to him. It was the scripture in Ephesians 5:18
Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit,
And just like that his journey began. It wasn't overnight, it was a process. Years of depression for what he saw in himself, what he did to others. It was like he finally saw what he was doing to his family and he wanted to make it right. He was trying so hard to make things right pleading for a second chance.  The problem was that we found it hard to forgive him. 
I can’t help but think Jonah. A prophet, a man who heard the voice of God and did what God instructed him to do. Except this one time. I don’t know the backstory, but he disliked the people of Nineveh. Jonah knew God would shed mercy on them if he warned them of Gods plans. So he refused to tell them, and he ran initially but in the end, he warned the people to repent. God forgave them but not Jonah had a hard time accepting that God would shed mercy on them. I wish I knew why? Do you think they did something horrendous to him and that’s why he didn’t want God to forgive them? 
Reading that story as a kid I thought, “wow what a stubborn prophet” but as an adult it hit me. I was being like Jonah, and God responded with, “ is it right for you to be angry” My season of bitterness and unrelenting to God was hell, like living in the belly of a spoiled fish. 

Long story short, I did forgive him. Hating him was killing me. So one day I gained the courage to walk over to him and say it all outloud. "Papi, I want to talk to you...... "
I can't remember the exact thing I said, but I remember the ending.
"I forgive you"

And just like that a burden that I had carried my entire life was lifted. I walked away lighter and life changed. Once I let it go, I stopped looking at him as my enemy. We were finally reconnecting. I had the dad of my dreams. He wasn't perfect but he wasn't that guy who tormented me anymore. He was romancing my mom. It was surreal/yet short lived. But when I reflect, I reflect on that. The greats! The laughs! The love! The forgivness that changed it all, just in time too, because I lost him shortly after. 
Last time I saw him was Valentine’s Day, 2/14/2000. I interrupted my parents Valentine’s Day with both of my kids. I literally barged into their bedroom and my kids crawled in the bed with them. We begged my parents to stop kissing and my mom got up and sat with me in the kitchen talking about how romantic my dad was that day while my dad cuddled with the kids watching terminator. Lol 

Such a sweet last memory! It scares me to think,  that my unforgiveness could have robbed me of it. 

Are you a Jonah? Are you upset that God wants to change someone you hate to love? 
Is it right for you to be upset?
I had a happy ending but I know not many do or will. Will you trust God anyway? 

Leave me a comment, share with me your thoughts. 


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