Yesterday felt like the longest day ever.  I am not sure I can express all my thoughts and emotions, or even if that is necessary and yet I felt such acute pain that I did not know how  to make dull.

Father’s Day… it’s a day that I can usually cope with by celebrating Sanj and his role to our family, father to his six sons and the blessing he is.  Usually I can cope and ignore that dull pain of having a father that is and always has been absent.    This year, not so much and to add to it, it was suffocating.

At church, there was a panel of father and child combinations, Sanj and Sammy being one of the combos.  There was a married daughter and her father and then a married son and his father.  There were questions that were asked by the pastor and answered then by each set.

I was fine.  I was able to blank it out.  I tuned out the songs that talked about our Father’s love.  Sometimes it just hurts.  Sometimes, most times, I am ok with and grateful to my Heavenly Father for His constant love and care.  I am usually about to deal with the fact that my earthly father is messed up.

Then a question was asked of how the father showed loved to them, the child, an example of this.  The daughter talked about how her car had broken down and how her father drove the few hours to her school and switched cars with her, and took her car to deal with so she didn’t have to worry.

Seems normal, seems almost in sequential, something that most would do, right?  Suddenly I felt my tears spring up.  I felt my heart do that thing that I hate, you know, when you know those emotions that are so locked tight, start to unravel and you know you are in trouble…

I was driving home from university, with a car full of girls.  We were all heading home for break.  My car (the one my dad gave me to use) broke down right there on the highway, about 30-45 minutes from home.  Ugh!!!!  No cell phones back in the day.  I am not sure even how I phoned home but my dad told me that basically it was my problem and I was to deal with it.  He was not coming to get me.

I can remember so clearly, feeling numb and horrified and embarrassed.  How do I face these girls and tell them my dad  isn’t coming?  How do I deal with this?  I can see so clearly where the car sat, on the side of the road.  I can feel my heart as it felt then.  Heavy, loaded and sad.

I don’t remember all the details from that point.  Another dad came and got us.  And then this dad and his son went back and pulled my car home.  I remember my dad having no shame, as they came to the door.

What does it take for a dad to not be there for his kid?  The child that he brought into the world?  What does it take to turn your back on your kid when they need you?

Last night I lay with Sanj, disrupting his weird show, Game of Thrones, and cried.  I cried for me.  I cried for the friend whose dad died and her heart is so full of grief.  I cried for the little girl that realized that her dad just doesn’t care.  I cried.  I looked at the clock and was grateful to see that it was late enough that I could end the day.

I woke up with morning grateful that yesterday was over.  I woke up this morning so grateful to my Heavenly Father for always having my back.

This entry was posted in Boys, choices, faith, Family, General, God and I, love, motherhood, Parenting, Reema Sukumaran, relationships. Bookmark the permalink.

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