My dad, struggled and fought, but was so very tired .....he left us one Friday evening, while I was in Chicago....he left ......my last words to him at the beginning of the week, as we were leaving for the Windy City, were....be good, don't do anything while I'm away now......he grinned and kissed me good bye.
But, he did do something, he died......
My dad, was always a strong man, he could do,anything....there wasn't anything that he didn't know how to fix......he went off to war, before I was born, before my older sister was born, ....after he and my mom had only been married for ten days......he was gone for two and a half years....long years that they were apart.....
But, he came back...he came back to start his life with his sweetheart....he worked at many jobs to support his family......he worked at a dirty place called the Coke Ovens....( not the coke they talk of today, and not the drink either) a dirty place that would cover him in black soot , that he would wash off at the kitchen sink ,every day when he came home from work....
When older sister was just a toddler, dad fell thirty feet, off a bridge where he was welding....he broke his back in three places.....my mom insisted on bringing his little girl to see her daddy.....the nurses protested, but mom brought her anyways.
At times he was a stern disciplinarian, but I will admit to needing that....I was born with a disability, back then they called it a physical handicap....I always had a chip on my shoulder, I was always trying to prove myself, I was mouthy...my older sister was timid.....ya, I knew what it was like to get a spanking.....no, it wasn't abuse, just good old fashion discipline.....I learned to be strong, I learned to persevere , I learned to find a way when my way had to be different then everybody else's .
Over the last forty years, I've watched my hubby be a father......he loved the babies.....he would get up with them in the night just as much as I did, and when they were sick...it was their dad who went to them, who comforted them, who cleaned up the vomit.....just as my dad had done for us......my hubby is not the 'get down on the floor and play Barbies or Lego' kind of dad.....I remember, once asking him to do that, and he just couldn't.....he didn't feel comfortable doing it......but....he was the dad that was there for his kids and still is.....he was the dad that when our unborn third child died, he laid his head in my lap and sobbed, he is the grandfather who saw the handprints of his little grandchild, who had already gone to heaven ....and he cried. He is the dad, when his daughter was hospitalized with a complete psychotic break, broke down and sobbed in our pastors arms.......
He's the dad that when two of our daughters had to have surgery, they chose their dad to walk with them into the operating room....to hold their hand, til they fell asleep....
He's the papa that loves to tease his grand babies, they've all gotten used to him, and exclaim...' Oh papa, your teasing'....with smiles on their faces.....he loves his grand babies....he loves rocking with them, giving them hugs.....and as we lay in bed the other night, he prayed for them, as he's done many times before but this time for a brand new one.....praying for it's formation and growth....praying for it's mommy and daddy......
Another dad, that I have observed is my son....well, right now I have two sons who are fathers....unfortunately the younger one chooses not to be a father to his son, but the elder one is coming along nicely! I despaired somewhat when the elder one first became a dad....I think it was kind of something that was so new to him that he wasn't prepared for the enormity of the situation....he didn't seem to connect, while floundering under the heavy weight and responsibility.....but as his son grew, you did see the bond growing...and it was good.
Then his number two son came along, and eldest sons' paternal feelings grew more and more, to the point that you can actually see the delight in the eyes of eldest son as he looks at his sons.... And on Saturday, when we were visiting....and wee littlest grandson fell, and there was great wailing while his mommy was holding him, this nana had to go and fetch his daddy, as the little guy, cried over and over....my dad, my dad......he wanted his dad.....he wanted to feel the security of his dad's arms wrapped around him.
Not unlike my feelings toward my dad, even to this day....or our children towards my husband....
Or even, and now some of my older kids might disagree, but their dad and I are still hoping that one day they'll once again want the feeling of their heavenly father's loving arms round about them, holding them, a shelter in the storm....just as little Samuel longed for his daddy's arms to hold him, to shelter him from the hurts.....
So, this Sunday is Fathers Day.....a day set aside to remember our dads....not everyone has good memories of their fathers......I hope all of my kids remember their dad, the dad that has been there for them, the dad that has loved them, thru thick and thin, the dad who, when faced with having to take a loan from the bank to be a dad to one of his children, said to me.....yes, we're doing it....I'm not going to kick myself around the block , years from now, over money....it's just money.......
These dads....the ones that I've been writing about, are true representatives of our heavenly fathers love for us.......and I hope my kids will always remember that about their dad cause that surely is what I'm reminded of when I think of mine. That is their heritage.....their real, true heritage.
My dad.....
My son.....
My hubby.....
All wonderful men of God and special dads......
~ Marie
No comments:
Post a Comment