The Letter

I feel compelled to write today about my dad. Not just because of Father’s Day, or because his birthday is around the corner, but because it is in my heart and mind today to do so.

I was always a “daddy’s girl.” I had to sit with my dad in the same chair every morning or I would actually feel sick to my stomach. He didn’t really have a lot of time for me, for I was one of six children, and he was trying to run a business to make a living. So this was our special time, just him and me. He would read the paper and occasionally rub my leg or arm to let me know that he was there.

As I grew older, and grew bigger, we could no longer fit in that recliner, and the times sitting alone with father ended. I saw a picture one day, long ago, of myself sitting alone on a stone fence and it immediately took me back to a time when I had actually felt my dad had rejected me. You see, I was only about 5 or 6 at that time, and had a chance to spend the afternoon with my father that day. Just me! I don’t know where my other brothers or sister were at that time, I just remember that I was alone with my mother and father. My mother had to go somewhere, and this was the chance to spend the whole afternoon alone with my dad! After she left, my dad wanted me to go next door to visit my aunt. I didn’t want to because I told him I didn’t like her food. But my real reason was that I just wanted to have my dad all to myself. For whatever reason, maybe he had to go to work, he opened up a brown paper bag and filled it with a banana and some caramels, and sent me on my way across our driveway. I remember that I didn’t go directly to her house but instead sat down on that stone fence, and while crying, proceeded to eat the caramels in my bag. Is it any wonder that caramels are my go to food when I need comfort?

All my life I felt that my dad didn’t really want to spend time with just me. Oh, I knew he loved me, and would tell me so, but way back in my mind, I remembered the rejection. I started to believe the lie that day that carried over until I was 62 years old. One day my daughter, Grace, brought me a few things she found in a shed. You see, we had a fire about a year prior and most of our stuff was destroyed or thrown away because of smoke damage. Very few of my personal items made it. Sad to say, the people we hired to move the furniture stole a lot of our stuff, so all in all not much made it to our new home. Anyways, my daughter found 3 things she thought I might want. One was a teapot from my grandmother, one was my 8th grade diploma, and the other was the letter.

I opened the letter that was sent to me in college. It was a letter from my dad!!! He was just writing to say he missed me and hoped we could get together soon and visit. He missed me and longed for my company. I cried when I read that letter because I didn’t remember even getting it and hadn’t realized that I had believed a lie I told myself long ago, that my father rejected me.

I have learned that we believe many lies. Satan tried to isolate me and tell me that I was unworthy of a father wanting to spend time with me. I believe he did this because God is represented as Father. If he could make me see a warped image of my father, then that could carry over to how I see God as my Father. Now I do understand that there are many abusive father’s who don’t deserve your respect or love. I am saying that many times we don’t fully understand the reason behind their actions. Often the abusive people are the ones who have been abused themselves. The point being, that many times in our lives we have come to believe a lie about someone or something. Thank God that the letter made it back to me. I am going to frame that letter to remind me of the lie I believed for years and years. Just a reminder that not everything I believe to be true, is.