** This blog is a bit overdue, but I wanted to post it anyway **
So, this time last year, I wrote a blog called “Father’s Day”. If you haven’t read it, go ahead and give it a read. I just wanted to kind of write out where I am emotionally and mentally since being on the World Race for half a year.
My dad wasn’t perfect. He was flawed in many, many ways, but mostly he was just human. He was given a rough hand and experienced more horrors in his life than anyone should ever have to. He suffered from other peoples choices and his mind was shaped and molded by his experiences. He was incredibly broken and hurting so badly, both emotionally and physically. I held so much against him in the past. I held onto my anger towards him.
In October, at training camp, I forgave my dad. Since then God has been restoring how I feel about him. Where there used to be unforgiveness, there is now grace. Where there once was hatred, there is now love. Where there once was judgment, there is now compassion. I held my dad to an impossible standard growing up. I failed a lot when it came to being a good daughter. I struggle a lot now with guilt for not loving him like I should have. I think of all the times he just wanted to spend with me, but in my hurt and anger I resisted and rejected him. I think about all the times he wanted to hug and kiss me, but I was too jaded by years of verbal and emotional abuse that I couldn’t see both sides of the coin.
Because here’s something I’ve realized: yeah, my dad was abusive and he had more bad days than good, but when he had good days, he was really good. He was himself. He was happy. He was loving and he wanted to build relationships with us. I’ve struggled a lot in my life with reconciling the good with the bad. In my mind, I couldn’t feel love for him if I hated him. I couldn’t have good memories with him if I had bad . . . but what I’ve learned that both of those experiences happened, and they are my experiences. The good and the bad are both valid. I am allowed to feel both. There is nothing wrong with looking back on a fond memory of him, while still healing from the hurt he’s caused.
God’s given me His eyes for my father. I think back and have compassion for him. I just wish I could have showed him more. I wished I could have loved him better. I wish I could have cared enough to be all in with him and I wish I’d had the sense to spend as much time with him as I could during the good times instead of spending my life trying to get away. Because now he’s gone. I never got to say goodbye to my dad, but that’s okay, because I know I’ll be seeing him again.
Until then, I love you daddy. You were the best you knew how to be.
