My dad a welder, navy seal, musician. He did 5 or more tours in Vietnam, I never knew exactly what his life was. He didn't talk all that much to me. Maybe he thought his stories would scare me too much. The life I lived in his presence certainly scared me plenty, for he had a lot of demons. His child-hood was as a single child adopted by an older couple, who had died before I was born. From my understanding he was adopted from a dutch community in Washington. I've sometimes thought of searching for his biological family. In his younger years his life was tainted with abusive adults that did things to him that made him what he was as an adult, a monster. The maddening cycle of abuse that reigned in our family.
I was the stupid, good-for-nothing, lazy, always in the way, get-out-of-my-face, shut-up, kid. I remember having a strong desire to please him though. I'd try and clean the house the best I knew how, or cut down weeds in the front yard hoping he'd take a notice of me. I'd wait to take his boots off at the end of his long day of work. I'd hope maybe I could sit on his lap and feel the warmth of a father's love. Maybe he would love me if I was good enough. Unfortunately my time as a young girl with my father wasn't something I try and remember.
He was angry, bitter, deceitful, abusive... I attempted at the age of 7 to bring the darkness in him to light. With my mother standing there, I let my voice be heard. I spoke out loud in an attempt to put the abuse that was taking place in my family to an end, my dad grabbed me and threw me down on the couch so fast my head spun. He continued to beat me as my mother tried fighting him off. He reached with one hand for the shot-gun hanging on the wall while his knee pinned me down and the other hand fought mom off. Seconds later I was staring down the end of a long barrel shot-gun with my dad holding the trigger shouting,”if you ever say anything or yell for help to anyone I will kill YOU." My mother was threatened with her life as well. Time stood still, my voice was stolen from me. My ability to ask for help was broken, and I no longer felt I could trust anyone. The relationship that could have and should have been the closest I'd ever have was shattered, I couldn't get any closer to my mother, for I feared for her life.
This memory had surfaced recently, as I quietly asked God, why? I hadn't realized that the answer I was seeking would be a memory that was so painful. It was so deeply embedded in my mind that it crippled me without knowing the root cause. In my adult life I couldn't understand why an overwhelming fear would bubble over if I had to ask anyone for help even with the smallest things, somehow I felt my life would be over. I couldn't understand why I had such difficulty trusting people in my life, or developing close trusting relationships with other women. Now the truth was being revealed, an unraveling of confusion and terror. I understand my dad didn't want his evil deeds to be exposed, so he crushed the light out of me. I may have well died that day for all I knew. From that day on all my energy was spent hiding from the pain.
I can't remember how old I was when the police officer came and pulled me out of class. I was scared out of my mind when he started questioning me. I couldn't give him any answers, it was as though my mouth was sealed closed. My father eventually went to prison, he was in for a short-time... I had wished it were longer. When he came home, he declared Christmas as a pagan holiday and had some weird religion he brought back with him. He read the bible from front to back while imprisoned. I wasn't impressed. In the time he was gone from home, I had developed an extreme disrespect and hate for him.
Much of my childhood is lost in darkness of memory, floating somewhere in the deep. The good memories seem to fade with the bad. I keep praying that God reveals the goodness of my childhood to me, but I'm still waiting. I know my mother loved me dearly, my brother had to remind me of that. God used him to bring light to the fact that she would hold my hand anytime she could. Kind of a silent pact that nothing could separate her love from me.
My mother became very ill after years of suffering. She developed breast cancer when I was 15. I saw the warrior in my mother come out during this 5 year battle. Jesus came into her life to heal her deep wounds. I couldn't understand how she could be so forgiving, how she could be so strong. I'd rub her feet and sit with her, "mom how do you deal with the pain?" She would answer, "this is nothing compared to what Christ Jesus suffered for me on the cross." I couldn't understand. It made no sense to me, I began to fall further from God as my mother attempted to draw us nearer. Those words about Jesus always ringing through my mind. She became a saint, a witness to God's glory. I was afraid for her... I was afraid for me. She was the "glue" that held us all together. If she left us, what would remain?
I witnessed her death. It was my first experience with the divine, there were just a few of us in the hospital room with her that night. She had held on much longer than the doctors said she would. My brothers read scriptures over her as she requested with a soft whisper. She had spoke to the pastor and prayed that her children would find God. We sang to her from the hymnal borrowed from the church. What child is this? We sang as she breathed her last and softly closed her eyes as one tear drifted down her cheek. There was such a light that I was certain we had sang the angels down for her. God had taken her home.
Now what? I was so angry with God. If she loved God so much, and He loved her, how could He do this to her? How could he take her from us?
The anger simmered in me for a couple of years as I witnessed my dad move on with another woman. Move her into the house within a few months as she packed up mom's stuff and placed it in the back yard under a tarp. This new woman of his had a young daughter who would climb up into his lap with laughter. He would kiss her forehead and smile. I couldn't watch... It's everything I ever desired, but never received. If he was capable of this, why couldn't he love me? Little did I know that dad realized what love was the day he had to let her go in the hospital. Nobody knew he had a little over a year to experience love, for death was knocking on his door.
I got married 3 months after mom died. Dad walked me down the aisle to give me away. The most incredible sunset blessed my day and I knew that Mom was there watching over us. Dad convinced the photographer to take several pictures of him and I. He said I would appreciate them one day. For our daddy/daughter dance at the reception he had a surprise for me, he had a recording of a song my mother sang, Could I have this Dance: by Anne Murray. I'm certain I had tears in my eyes, as did he through the entire dance. We had a few brief encounters of drawing nearer to one another, building trust. God was working on us both. It wasn't easy but I was beginning to see the new light in my father's eyes. Doing my best to see past the pain, so was he.
It was a little over a week after my one year anniversary that my Grandma died, shortly after Dad fell ill with a fever of 104, it lasted days before he finally went to the hospital. They ordered a colonoscopy and could only probe a few inches into his colon. It was blocked by a tumor the size of a football that had mastatisized to his liver and lung. The doctors were certain that this cancer was developing for well over a decade. They took out a third of his colon and diagnosed him terminal with stage 4 cancer. He chose to undergo alternative treatment in Mexico and requested I go with him to help him through the 1 month treatment. I wasn't sure I wanted to go. Why'd he ask me?
I know my lil sis was there with me and dad. She was only 15 or 16 at the time. I went more for her than I did for dad. My lil sister at the age of 3 became my best friend, she was someone I could talk to without any reprieve with no fear that something I would say would get me killed. My sister was young enough she wouldn't have known anything about what I was exposed to, at least I didn't think so. Sadly I'm sure I shoved my pain on her too many times because I could. So here we were in a little town just north of Tijuana staying in an R.V. taking the daily trip across the border with dad, visiting a few places around San Diego. Dad took us to a few familiar spots of his. He had been stationed there in the Navy and gave us an incredible history lesson. Took us to a beautiful look out point above San Diego, and a car museum. We visited the beach and a few shops. It was turning out to be a surprisingly good trip. Dad was in a lot of pain though. I'd spend a lot of time nursing his pain, waiting on him, and meeting his needs. I was rubbing tiger balm pain relief on his back when he began to weep. I thought I might have been rubbing to hard. He stopped me... In that moment something happened that I never thought possible. He began speaking words of forgiveness and blessings into my life. "Delainy, I am so very sorry for what I put you through. You have become a beautiful young lady with such a loving heart, I am so very proud of you." I was stunned as he spoke these words into my life. Not only had grace wrapped around my father and I, but something greater took place in my life. The hesitation to give my life to the heavenly father broke free. The blessing that my dad spoke into my life not only reconciled our relationship, it reconciled my relationship with our heavenly Father.
On the fourth of July my dad was in the hospital, he only had a few days remaining. I wanted for him to be able to see the fireworks from the hospital, so my husband and I scoped out a place that we could view them. He was just happy to have family there with him. I wasn't as oblivious to death this time, I knew it was inevitable. Learning I can't take one moment for granted, I just held my dad as we watched the fireworks. I had concluded that I could embrace my dad regardless of the past. We could live for the day, and I know I will see him again one day. Thank you Daddy for going out with a bang, it changed my life. You showed me the way to find myself in the arms of the heavenly father. I love you and miss you!
Never hesitate to tell someone you love them, even if the past is painful. Love heals, love never fails.
Ephesians 6:2-3 Honor your father and mother" (this is the first commandment with a promise) "that it may go well with you and that you may live long in the land."
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