Father’s Day Delayed Sadness

August 11, 2018 has lived forever in my heart and head.  That is the day my dad ended his life.    I remember the last conversation.  I remember tne phone conversation with the police officer.  I remember seeing him lying there in a pool of blood.  I remember standing outside at 3 AM screaming at him.   Hours before his visitation, I stood in that chapel crying and yelling at him.  A lot of anger followed that day, went on for months. As time went by and holidays came and went, the anger finally turned to the grief and sadness.  I will never understand or know why he had to do this to our family.  

One thing I’ve wondered though, was he that cruel on that last day so we’d be angry instead of sad? OR Was he just that tormented at the end?  

I still get sad when I look at pictures of him or hear songs from his funeral or just songs he liked in general. 

Father’s Day has always been hard.  We pray over the dads at church.  It kills me because mine is now gone.   The first one was really hard.  This last one, I held it together but then they sang “Amazing Grace” and I thought, gosh dad hated that song.  I had only ever heard it at funerals.  I refused to let it be played at dad’s funeral.  

I miss that man even if he was always a hard @$$ towards me.  I now realize why he was like that.  I get it now.   

So, “Dad, I love you.  I forgive you.  I understand now why you always seemed so harsh with me. I hate that the kids will not get to know you and have awesome memories that they’ll actually remember.  You are missed.”

Mirror Room

Mirrors

Shiny surfaces

Reflective

What does it reflect though?

Truth?

Lies?

Reality?

Distortion?

Is she me?

Am I her?

Was that even me at all?

The eyes don’t look the same.

Empty?

No…Lost!

She looks lost.

Easy target.

Mirrors surround

Trapped

Each reflection different.

A different me!

All shouting

So loud

I’m muted

Being Reborn

She sat alone in the dark. The demons in her head chipping away at her fragile human condition. They picked away at her psyche piece by piece. The storm slowly starting to brew around her.

She opened her eyes to see her assailant.  Yet there was nothing but the darkness. And then she felt it! She heard it! Chains breaking. 

Then a voice thundered over the demons’ chatter saying, “Cast your burden on the Lord, and he will sustain you; he will never permit the righteous to be moved.”

She closed her eyes and submitted herself unto God, her heart, her very essence. She gave it all to God. And when she did, it was finally quiet.

As she stood up, free from the chains that held her, she said, “I am his servant. I am his warrior. I am his tempest who will only submit to him. I wear his armor. I carry his banner and wield his sword. His love fills my heart and lights my way out of the dark times.”