I was thinking how I would have liked to give him a birthday card. But that's living in a fantasy. My dad stopped talking to me three years before he died for reasons I'll never know. I kept reaching out to him - no response. It's sad, really, to think that my father who helped create me would abandon me so easily. Then again, is it really that much of a surprise?
Truthfully, no it's not. Considering the man he was when I was growing up it's not hard at all to recognize his abusive behavior as part of the disease of alcoholism. Alcoholism steals people away and many of them never make or take the journey back. They are lost inside an insidious disease that seeks and destroys the men and women who are in it's grip. I know because I'm a recovering alcoholic and just celebrated six years of sobriety.
If I gave my dad a birthday card and if our relationship had been healed and if he didn't marry his second wife and if he chose to not only stop drinking but attend AA meetings and go to therapy to get well, I'd buy a nice sentimental card. He liked those better than the humorous ones. I'd write his name down the blank left hand side of the card and use the letters of his name, like this:
Humorous
A great carpenter
Neither near nor far
Knows stuff
But that card wasn't bought.
The card wasn't filled out.
His name and address are not written on the envelope.
I do not need a stamp because isn't being mailed.
Instead, I went to church today and learned more about my Father in Heaven and our relationship:
- I am to meet with God first
- I am to let God change me
- Let myself live in His power
- Try 30 days of meeting with God
- Live moment by moment
- Fail FOR God
- God doesn't hide sin
- Tell the truth
- God shows us the Promiseland when we obey his commands
- God buried Moses by Himself and we know not where Moses is buried
- Ask myself, "Am I struggling to let go of sin for disappointing God?"
- Live in this truth: Nothing, when I confess it TO God, separates me FROM God.
See the difference? An earthly father bogged down by sin, guilt, shame and a host of other feelings is lost in self-destructive behavior and does not have a light to get out. My Heavenly Father reminded me that sin, when confessed, is forgotten. I can live in the freedom that Jesus died for all sin on the cross and remain in His light.
I miss my Dad. He was a great guy whose whole life was bogged down in abuse and addiction. I feel bad for him. I really do.
He died alone, my Dad. The coroner said it was a heart attack but I believe something else happened. I can't prove it so I won't say it. Let's just say there is evidence of a person of interest who did everything she could to keep my sisters and I away from him and it worked.
But here's the catch: Even though my name, my Dad's brothers and their families and his pre-deceased parents were not listed in the obituary and the obituary was insulting and offensive to our entire family, I have a birth certificate with his name on it. Above the word, "Father" it says, "Henry Raymond Endler, Jr." No one can ever take him away from me. His urn? Yes. His things? Yes. The pictures and trinkets and gifts we gave to him from the time we were in grade school through adulthood? Yes.
But love, even tough love which speaks volumes and screams for healing, can never be taken away. I doubt the evil this person bestowed upon us will ever understand. Even with all the abuse he did to me, it can never be washed away by someone else's sickness and control and denial. Only God can heal a deeply abused soul that survived horrific abuse. And that soul is mine.
But love, even tough love which speaks volumes and screams for healing, can never be taken away. I doubt the evil this person bestowed upon us will ever understand. Even with all the abuse he did to me, it can never be washed away by someone else's sickness and control and denial. Only God can heal a deeply abused soul that survived horrific abuse. And that soul is mine.
Sam's Club hot dogs, a Mug Rootbeer, runs to Menard's and Home Depot - that's my Dad. Working with him spraying houses for bees then sitting in his truck for lunch eating hot dogs - that's my Dad. Sitting across the table talking about things in my life - that's my Dad. That's the Dad I want to remember. For a very brief time I had my Dad and that's who I miss.
Happy Birthday, Dad.
I hope you're in heaven, fully healed and fully restored.
That's my birthday wish for you.
That's my birthday wish for you.
Love your forever daughter,
Amy Kathleen (He named me)
