On My Father’s Passing

Greetings Dear Reader,

Psa 68:5 The God who is in his holy dwelling place is the father of the fatherless and the defender of widows.  

Most of what I write is reflection with a hope to spurring myself toward a deeper relationship with Christ.  Today is much different.  Today I ponder the loss of someone I have not spoken to in over fifteen years.  Understand that as much as I was able I loved my birth father.  In my fifty one years of life I only was with him for a cumulative four to five years. 

He left when I was three.  I saw him again when I was eight, when I was eighteen, and then again when I was twenty-four.  I spoke to him once when I was in my mid-thirties.  At this point learning of his passing raises up some very old wounds and creates some new ones.  It also brings some closure to some things that I have wondered about for quite some time.

The overwhelming thought after some time to digest the news is that of the things that will never happen now.  You see a part of me has always hoped for that there would be a way for us to reconnect.  A part me is still that little boy waiting for a second airplane ride.  A part of me stills sees the Electra Glide, mirror sunglasses, and dark boots as the ultimately cool look.  I still respond with fondness when I see a yellow mustang convertible.

There will be no answers as to why I was left at three and why visits after that were brief and unpredictable.  I do know that the well that should be filled by a father who loves me is very dry from a human perspective.  Do not get me wrong.  I have dealt with most of the anger and forgiven my father long ago.  None of that fills the void left by a father who does not choose to show love to his son.

 

That said there are some very positive things that came from this man being my progenitor.  Had he not been my father then my Grandfather would not have been in my life for the time he was.  His life lessons continue to teach me.  I also know that my love of good music is partially from my father.  I learned to play the guitar because of his getting me my first one.  My creativity and imagination are an echo of his.  He loved new technology and so do I.

We do not get to choose our fathers.  We do not get to make them be as we wish they would be for us.  What we do get to do is choose which pieces of our father we will emulate.  I know that my sons will be better fathers than I was to them but I also know that I have done better by them than was done to me.  I have failed at some vital points and hope that someday my failures have completely diminished from their lives.  It was my father’s abandonment of me that made me determined to be in their lives.  For now, I must continue to become more of what I should be while there is still time.

No one can measure the depth of the loss I feel today but that is common I think when we lose those with whom we have unfinished business.  The brightest spot in all of this is that I get to reconnect with a sister who I have not seen since she was an infant.  Perhaps I can find some solace in reassuring her and all of her family that I have never forgotten them and am overjoyed to know them again.  Perhaps also I can learn more good things to carry with me on my journey.  Today I am a mass of conflicting impulses.  I feel the loss but also a measure of relief.  I feel a deep sadness over some things that will never be.  I know that long ago this man had faith and that may be enough.  I know that tomorrow that there is a bit of pain ahead but that I do not journey alone.

Wishing you joy in the journey,

Aramis Thorn

Mat 13:52 So Jesus said to them, "That is why every writer who has become a disciple of Christ’s rule of the universe is like a home owner. He liberally hands out new and old things from his great treasure store."