Observations of a Father’s Love

I wish I could say this post is about my father, but it’s not. It’s about another man I know. He’s my Uncle Pete. With the recent passing of his wife, my Aunt Mary, I’ve spent more time with him and come to appreciate his dedication to his son.

Sacrifice Versus Abandonment

My uncle retired from his job over 25 years ago to help his wife care for their disabled son Mark (who was in high school at the time). They have been his primary caregivers ever since.

Because of Mark’s condition, he doesn’t get out of the home much or have contact with many people. My recent trips back home to help them relocate and grieve the loss of their wife and mother have given me a chance to connect with them both.

Visiting Aunt Mary’s gravesite.

What I’ve observed is the toll caregiving has on the family–in this case my uncle. I’ve taken on a bit of the emotional toll myself–the love and longing to help combined with the periodic sense of helplessness.

Since my last trip was near Father’s Day, I couldn’t help but reflect on the sacrifice my uncle has made for his son. It is in stark contrast to the fathering I received.

My father was married 6 times. My mom was wife number 4. Some might say he had a pattern of abandonment. As a recipient of that abandonment, I can’t argue with it. I’m sensitive to the hole in one’s heart due to the absence of a father’s love and attachment.

The Sacrificial Love of a Parent

My Uncle Pete has weathered the storms in his marriage, maintained faithfulness and provided through thick and thin, or until death us do part. He has been a devoted husband and father all these years.

When life’s challenges hit us, we can either rise to the occasion or shrink in defeat. My uncle has been the steady foundation for his family. I admire that in him.

As parents we unconditionally love our kids just like our heavenly Father loves us. How much more difficult that is when our kids are less than perfect or do not live up to our standards. Whether it’s through the trials of drug addiction, alcoholism, sexual promiscuity, illegal activity or physical or mental disabilities–we love them and pray for them. Sometimes we have to use tough love and other times we learn to let go.

I can’t fathom the pain and suffering my uncle has endured through the years as he clung to hope for his son’s healing.

So I dedicate this post to my Uncle Pete and all the fathers who chose to selflessly devote their lives to become caregivers to their disabled children. You are extraordinary fathers. Your children are blessed to have you under their care and protection.

May the Lord give you the courage, faith, hope and strength to pour into your children on Father’s Day and beyond.

A Caregiver’s Prayer

Heavenly Father,

Help me better understand and believe I can do what you ask me to do.

Forgive me for the times when I question your judgment.

Lighten my burden, answer my prayer, and give me the strength to do what so often seems impossible.

Give me a quiet place to rest when I need it and a quieting of my anxieties when I’m there.

Change my attitude from a tired, frustrated and angry caregiver to the loving and compassionate one I want to be.

Remain my constant companion as I face the challenges of caregiving and when my job is through and it’s time for me to let go, help me remember my dear one is leaving my loving arms to enter your eternal embrace.

Amen.

Friends of St. John the Caregiver (www.FSJC.org)

A Father’s Day Message of Hope

The year before my father died I wrote him a long letter for Father’s Day.  It’s not something I’d ever done before.   He was 93 years old, and I felt prompted to speak into matters of the heart with him.  It was a very risky endeavor—because he was not an emotional person and there was a ‘history’ between us.

Me & Dad circa 1962.

My Father History

My parents divorced when I was nine years old.  My mother and us kids moved across the country to live near my mother’s relatives.  My time with my father was then limited to a few summer visits in my teen years.

He was my father in name only for most of my life—and not only to me, but to the kids he also fathered in previous marriages.  That never seemed to bother me though.  He was MY father.  I loved him and longed for his love and acceptance.

While he was absent from most of the milestones in my life and lived thousands of miles away, his presence loomed large in my life in ways unbeknownst to me.

The Healing Journey

When I entered recovery over a decade ago, I started to see the effect of his absence in my life—the absence of real relationship and love.  As I got healing for my inner father wounds and took responsibility for my behavior and choices, I also learned to accept him in his failings.  I grieved what I didn’t get from him and released myself from the guilt I carried around my parent’s divorce (a common by-product of divorce).

The more healing I got, the easier it was for me to recognize how his words affected me, and to maintain an adult stance around him.  As I got stronger with my adult voice, I started to respectfully speak up for myself and my beliefs.  I didn’t let his opinions and his lack of empathy dictate my own self-worth.

In short, I grew confident in who I was as a woman and gave my little Ardis the chance to grow up as well.

My father and I had a good relationship the last few years of his life.  He observed how I restored the relationship with my mother and cared for her at the end of her life.  He was genuinely interested in the resulting turnaround in my life.  The healing and forgiveness I experienced at the end of my mother’s life then became a catalyst for me to initiate the same change in our father-daughter relationship.

Fishing with my father on the Columbia River.

A Father’s Day Letter

A few months after my mother passed away, my father’s last surviving sibling passed away.  I was still early on in my grief process over the loss of my mother, and I sensed that my uncle’s death may have been hard for my father too.  I used that as an opportunity to speak to his heart by way of a long letter.  I sent it for Father’s Day that year.

The purpose of the letter was two-fold.  One purpose was to fill him in on the inner healing I was experiencing and how God was revealing more things to me about my mother and the legacy she left me.  The second purpose was to express my forgiveness to him and propose a similar gesture as a lasting legacy for our family.

I was bold in my words, yet compassionate in my plea for family healing.  I prayerfully wrote the letter, releasing the outcome to the Lord and having no expectations of his understanding or emotional shift in his attitudes towards family.

Dad and me at his 90th birthday party.

A Father’s Day Reminder

I believe that letter made all the difference in my father’s ability to go in peace.  He never spoke of the letter, but my step-mother told me he read and re-read it several times.  He was outwardly softening as I think the Lord was inwardly doing a work in him.

He passed away the following year in a beautiful way that brought family together and gave us all peace in his passing.  We honored him with a private family memorial service that gave us closure and more healing.

While Father’s Day can still be a painful reminder to me of what I didn’t get from my earthly father, I’d much rather focus on how the Lord redeemed those years by giving me a heartfelt connection with my father at the end of his life.

I’m thankful the Lord prompted me to go down the path of healing and forgiveness for both of my parents before it was too late.  It has made all the difference in me and helped me to model that kind of healing with others.

2 Corinthians 6:18

I hope and pray that Father’s Day isn’t painful for you as it has been for me at times.  If your father is still alive and your relationship needs work, don’t wait until it’s too late.  Offer forgiveness and love, releasing the outcome to the Lord.  And remember our heavenly Father is with us as a friend, counselor, and Abba Father, regardless of the circumstances with our earthly father.

  • WELCOME to my site!

    I'm an author, writer, speaker, mentor & mom. I've struggled to find my voice all my life as I lived in the shadows of a mother with mental illness. Thankfully that was not the legacy that she handed down to me. It took a lot of recovery and deep healing work to rise above it.

    I am thankful to God for Making Me Bold in the process. Now I use my writing and speaking voice to help others on their journey to turn healing into hope.

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