Three weeks have passed since my father left this earth. My heart still aches at the thought that I won't see him again.
As it were, my dad did not talk to me for 6 years, stubborn with pride, about a young woman who had a voice and was no longer his little girl. He was drunk and told me how proud he was of me for opening up my restaurant; but that quickly turned to blame. He always blamed me for my brothers decision to not move to Texas when he was 12 and evidently did not forgive me. He ranted and raved about how I had ruined my brothers life because I wanted him to stay in California.
I was 33 years old; a wife and a mother of 3. This was my 3rd business and I was a home owner! I looked my dad in the eyes, and for the first time in my life, told this man I deeply loved, "Dad, why don't you take a look in the mirror and take responsibility as a parent! I was 14 years old and didn't want my brother to move to Texas. What kind of sister would I be if I wanted him to go? It had nothing to do with you! It had to do with the fact that Eric asked me how I would feel if he moved and I said I would be sad. That's it! Why don't you take responsibility for the fact that you left us in California for a woman and a job and it messed us up!"
My father, with those deep blue eyes, and fierce intensity, rolled his eyes and said the last words I would ever hear him say, "F@*# off Teresa!" He stood up and walked to the front door of my restaurant. I just sat there at the table in shock!
He left and I never heard from him again. He stopped sending Christmas and birthday cards to my kids and never returned my phone calls. His wife sent me an email that essentially said, "I am over it" which expressed her discontent of my standing up to my dad.
After 2 years of silence, The Lord told me to write him a letter, as if he were on his death bed. I did. It was 2009. I still sent him Christmas gifts and cards, but no response. In 2011, when my mom was diagnosed with cancer, I called him to tell him and talk to him about it. He never called me back. Then his mother, my grandmother died in April of that year. I called him to tell him I was sorry and wished I was there; nothing. When my mom died in September of that year, I called again to tell him, but he never returned my call. (I discovered at my dads funeral that he was contemplating coming, but was afraid he would say the wrong thing to me and my sister and make it worse, so didn't come) I wish he would have called and asked me if I wanted him to come. I would have said yes! But instead, we sat through a joke of a ceremony, listening to an arrogant pastor and having to deal with our inconsiderate step family. I called him in December to tell him that my oldest was playing in the California State game, but still no response.
My heart grieved my father and I longed to have relationship with him, if even for the sake of my own kids. The new year, 2013, rolled in and still no word from my father. Just silence. It had now been 6 years since I talked to him. Sometimes I would be so angry at his prideful heart and other times I would cry at the loss of my father.
I called him in May of 2013 to let him know Elijah would be graduating on June 6, 2014 and how much it would mean to me if he came. He never responded.
At this point, I realized my kids were grown up, and they had no memories with their grandfather. They barely knew him and endearingly referred to him as "Papa Texas", this man somewhere out there who was their own.
I grieved all the broken promises and all the plans he made but never followed through on.
September 2013, my husband and I fasted for breakthrough. I realized that I hadn't prayed for my dad in a while. The pain of rejection and abandonment kept me from engaging anything that had to do with him. I started praying for him. For restored relationship, for his salvation and healing. I opened my heart to him again, with the hope that something might break and we could redeem the time lost.
He died the last week of my fast. I stopped fasting and grieved. I am still grieving. Words cannot express the longing I had for this man to love me, to hold me, to cherish me!
I guess in some ways I have been grieving the loss of my father since 2009. His silence was like death to me.
I wrote a poem in my sorrow... About my father, this silent man, that I loved.
Kissed by your lips
Captivated by your voice
One more time
But your pride kept you from me
I had hoped to see your face
In the crowd of fans
Cheering my boys
As they played
But your pride kept you from them
I had hoped you would be the man
Who loved my daughter
Spoiled her with gifts
And encouraged her in dreams
But your pride kept you from her
I had hoped you would be there for me
When death came to mom
When sorrow gripped my heart
I needed your chest to cry on
But pride kept you from me
I had hoped you would celebrate life
Embrace your weaknesses
Seek out healing
Grow in love and humility
But pride kept you from that
I had hoped that you would live long
Have your family around you
As we sang Christmas songs
And leave this earth
With a trail of legacy behind you
But pride kept you from that
And as I grieve, the loss of my father
The loss of relationship
And love and family
I am angry and sad
But I have learned from you
And will not repeat
I will embrace your lesson
And remember the sweet
I will hold onto the last kiss
Delight in the songs we sang
Cherish the words you spoke
Value the gifts you gave
I will tell stories to my kids
Of a man they barely knew
Of his challenge to rise above
The pain that made you blue
I will put pictures on my walls
I will etch memories in my heart
And I will be the legacy
You desired from the start
And I will NOT let pride
keep me from you.
Goodbye daddy... I hope to see you again!
