My Dad

I’ve been in this house far too long now, but I don’t have enough energy to do anything that doesn’t cost money. I sure hope by the time the writer’s conference comes I’m feeling better than this. Please God let me enjoy those couple of days without feeling like I want to die.

Today I’ve been remembering my dad because of the writing prompt for this morning.

WRITE ABOUT YOUR FATHER’S EYES:

Steely gray. Always brooding. Always drunk. As a child those eyes terrified me. As a child those eyes knew and saw all. Just by looking in his eyes you could tell whether it was a good day or a bad day. As he aged and his medical issues multiplied and he lost his legs I saw the blue eyes of a lost, scared, lonely child. Desperate, so lonely. Very few times of joy. I can still see the smile that lit up his face and eyes on his last Christmas when he opened one of his gifts from me, his favorite oatmeal. In less than a month the light behind those blue steely gray eyes went out and he was gone. I hope he found peace from this world.

I think I understand better now why he was the way he was. He felt like the world just kept beating him up so much that the light behind his beautiful blue eyes went out and they became the steely gray of anger and bitterness. He was tired of fighting, tired of trying. Pain from choices he’d made that he could no longer control. He really wasn’t a mean man, he was a hurting man.

I think the reason I can understand him better now is because I’m more like him than I’d like to admit. No I don’t drink anymore, but there are a lot of choices in my past that I regret. Choices that have brought me to where I am today. I know they can’t be changed, but it doesn’t take away the pain I’ve inflicted on myself. Add to that the chronic illness that I didn’t have any choice in and I’m feeling pretty battered and beaten up these days myself.

I’m glad I forgave my dad before he passed away because he wasn’t a bad man. I wish he were alive today so we could talk about all the things I’m learning about me and people. Who knows maybe he can read this from heaven. I’d like to think so.

Today I’m grateful for:

1. The leftovers from yesterdays awesome meal so I don’t have to really cook.

2. The muscle relaxer I took last night and the couple of hours of good sleep.

3. I don’t have to be anywhere again today so maybe I can get this pain back under control before the conference.

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2 Comments

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2 responses to “My Dad

  1. Helen Clark

    Time and maturity make us wiser. I am glad you forgave your father. Your writing helps you stay in touch with others. We may be alone but their are others out their we can reach out to. The internet is a wonderful thing.

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