I miss my pappa

This week was really fragile for me. I guess sometimes we think that we've placed certain emotions on standby for a bit, you know, so that it does not overwhelm us. But this week was definitely a week of remembrance for me. 

There are days I don't remember the yearning I deeply feel for my father and then there are days where it crashes over me like waves during a high tide. For years I have imagined what it would be like to have a very present father. I imagine him teaching me how to change the flat tire of my car. I imagine talking to him about endless boy problems I have. I imagine taking walks with him while being showered with physical affection, which he did when I was a child. Along with these imaginative thoughts, I have also worked through hatred and pain I have had towards him, and the bitterness that deeply embedded itself because of his absence. 

Today, I can say that I deeply love my father. I think it took a while for me to process that my father didn't have a present-loving father. In actual fact he had a very abusive father. One of whom cheated on his mother on numerous occasions and who cultivated a toxic home. But my father's father also did not have a father. And it wasn't his fault. Bringing it down to the present time, I feel as though this is unfair for me. Why do I now have to suffer the fruit of generations before me in a matter so important to my well-being? Yes, my father wasn't fully present and he did physically abuse me a few times, but he was the best he could be. That is a hard thought for me to process, even right now while I am typing this.

I guess as kids we will always have questions for our parents in the actions that have taken to contribute to the versions of who they are today. In the very tough times I have with both my parents, friends like my best friend and some mentors, would always remind me that my parents were also once children. They were once children also longing for what I am longing for. In light of this, I tell myself, "Have grace for the shepherds who tried to raise you." And if I may add, I feel as though they did a really good job because we have faced lots of trauma as a family inclusive and exclusive of my father's presence. 

There is still a sense of lack in me. There is still the ever-growing longing to be loved by my own father. My king and friend. Confidant and shield. Damn, I used to feel like I could conquer the world beside him. 

It has been a tough week for both my sisters, in more ways than one. As they both shared with me their hurt in their respective heartfelt issues, I found myself digging in an empty well. It hurt me to hear my sisters hurt. But it also hurt me because what did present look like in the crux of these moments? What does that look like when you didn't have that from your own? 

I always find it so challenging to draw from references not attached to me. What I mean is that I do have father figures, mentors, friends who live by amazing examples etc but, I want my own father. I dream that it could have been a journey him and I have walked and now I get to use our story as a tool of victory for my sisters. But life doesn't always work that way. 

I am extremely grateful for the many people in my life who lead by example. I get to watch some of the most amazing men lead their families and this is always so refreshing for me. I won't lie, when I was younger these types of scenarios always cut me up big time! Now I get to watch and learn from how they treat their families and how they cultivate a home. 

I remember in a creative life planning meeting with my friend and pastor, Monte (shoutout Monte). He asked me what I was wanting to build. And like him I said, "family". It has been a rough ride since. I thought building family would be a little easier than this. But taking into account the trauma, the individual experiences, the memories, the sorrows, the dreams that perished. We recognize that this is a life-long journey of healing. A few years ago I would have fits of anger with my family. I would also be partially present when they would talk to me. Now, I am different. I have been observing my friends and mentors very close to me and I have seen that there is a better way. 

Yes, we long for the day fathers return to our homes and for healing to live with us once again. But truthfully speaking, most of us do not resonate with that dream right now. However, this is not the end. I can sit here and ponder on my pain and have it paralyze me, or I can open conversations to help me on this journey of healing. 

I have recognized that I am a contributor to the healing of now in my family and to the generations after me. I now look at my nieces and I shower them with intentional love. I whisper in their ears that they are beautiful. That they are loved. That they are seen and heard, even though I don't understand baby language. I now engage with my family and be empathetic towards the versions of who they are today. 

It is hard to journey healing with family but it is so worth it. There were many meetings I have called with family where I am shouting at everyone. I didn't know how to lead a home since I was 17, but I did. I can proudly say I did. The way I did it was not always pretty, but I needed to let them know that I was not okay with where we were at. It took a lot of trauma we caused one another in where we are today, but we are stronger. I can never replace my father in my sisters lives and surely not in my own. But I know this that we have bright examples shining around us and if me learning to be like a father would help those around me, then so be it. I want to be a contributor to healing and not brokenness anymore. I want to be a better brother, a better father-figure and a better friend. 

I still love my dad and get to randomly see him. The last conversation we had, he asked me if I was okay and healthy. He also got to say that he is proud of me for leading our family. That was precious. He asked about my sisters and mother, as he always does. In my heart I get to pray for him as a small boy. My prayer is always that he will find his way back to healing and that he will let go of the shame of time missed and lost. That God is able to turn filthy rags into garments of beauty and that he will take that which is lost and bring them to a place of love and healing. 

Love Ro.