Happy Birthday Daddy.

A note to you:
This is very close to my heart. As you will read, my Dad is no longer here on earth for me to have a relationship with. Fathers, cherish your daughters. They are your princesses and they deserve nothing less, even if they have made mistakes (who hasn't?). Daughters, forgive your fathers for things that warrant true forgiveness and acceptance of a relationship and mend it. Time is a gift we cannot get back.




In 2002 my Dad died. We had an often turbulent relationship, and the last year of his life we did not speak. I spent a lot of time fearing him, dreading to see him and then distancing myself from him. He could be a beautiful person, he was blond and tall and had the most amazing personality and I can remember being little and just worshipping him.

But sometimes, he wasn't beautiful. He could be cruel, and critical; often making me feel like the smallest person in the world. He had a unique way of stomping all over my dreams, squashing my creativity and verbally tearing me to pieces.

Maybe he thought he was being practical, but an artistic little girl needed nurturing and affirmation. She needed to know the THE man in her life thought she was beautiful and marvelous.

So, for most of the moments in my life, he wasn't there. He was a shadow in my life and sometimes, the sun would briefly shine through. I got weary of having that shadow cast on me and went for months without calling him. He never called me anyway, and more time just passed.

And then he was gone. He died January 17, 2002. I didn't fully accept it until several years ago. And then I grieved, I remembered what he smelled like, Coast soap and dirt and sweat...my truck smells like him. I remembered memories; hunting, riding in the pickup, watching Westerns on Sunday. I found a letter from him he sent to me in college, telling me he was proud of me and in so many words, apologizing for not being much of a parent.

If I could have 5 minutes with him, I would make him sing the song to me he made up about us. I cannot remember the words, I wish I could. I would drink a cup of coffee with him, he loved coffee and it seemed that his cup was never empty. I would make him tell me stories about being a little boy and about his horses and cows.

I would look at him and understand that he was just so screwed up, he couldn't help it if he didn't know how to love me.

I would ask if he thought I was beautiful, and hope he said yes, because all little girls need that from their Daddy.

I would extend grace and forgiveness to him for not being there for me. I would ask him to do the same for me.

I have a picture of him as a young man. He was beautiful and flawed, misunderstood and charismatic, and lonely. And he was my Dad

And I love him, just as he was.

Christmas Time is Here

I used to wonder why people loved to talk about the past so much. You know how a bunch of old people like to get together and tell stories about when they were young? As I get older, I understand why. Memories, specifically the good ones, have a way of making us feel alive again and whole. They comfort and remind us of a different time, often a better time. Christmas is such a special time of year and for many, it can be very lonely. Christmas memories can be joyful and bittersweet. I was so fortunate to have MANY wonderful Christmases, and hopefully more to come. I want to share a few memories with you.

Christmas Eve was always a time with my Daddy. He was a beautiful man, tall with blond hair, a beautiful smile and green eyes. He always drove a Ford pickup truck, and he would come get me and take me to Grandma Millies. There was always a ton of amazing food, and chocolate eclair cake (that was my favorite!). I felt SO special in that big pickup truck, driving back home to Momma's, looking up through the windshield for a glimpse of Rudolph.

In second grade, I got Mikey the cocker spaniel for Christmas. I walked out of my bedroom and his sweet little head popped up out of the box! The first pictures Momma took of us, I am just hugging him and crying. He was the prettiest puppy in the world! I was SO surprised and OVER THE MOON! What could be better than a puppy for Christmas?

The most precious Christmas gift I received was from my Momma while I was in college. She spent several months making me a beautiful quilt. She had embroidered several quotes and Bible verses on it, and it is a beautiful pattern of hearts. I keep it packed up now, but I just remember opening the gift and being floored at the time, talent, love and effort she had put into that beautiful quilt for me.

The last few years I have spent my Christmas Eve at The Church at Hopepark participating in their Christmas Eve services. It has always been special to share that time with people you love and new people you grow to love, using your gifts for a greater good. There is nothing like it, sharing that time to worship together and celebrate the birth of Christ. I always left those services knowing I had a long drive home ahead, but the feeling of love and community made it an easy drive.

So, Christmas time is here. Make some memories. You might need them one day, to share with others you love, or to remind you that are loved. Merry Christmas.