Memories for Father's Day

Even though, most of my life my father was absent from my life, I have enough memories embedded in my psyche to be thankful for the father that God gave me.

My sister in-law made this necklace for me and it will forever be a keepsake that reminds me my father did love me.

I was only two when my parents divorced, and I was a mama's girl all the way. My sister Nonie was the one that was most hurt when my parents split up. Everyone said my sister was the spitting image of our father.

We would see my Dad off and on while we were growing up, at least, until I was about 10. Since my mother moved us to L.A. right after the divorce we only saw my dad occasionally.

I remember being at my Aunt Leonie's house and laying in bed with my dad in the morning, and telling him when I grew up I wanted to marry him. He laughed and said, "Oh, you wouldn't want to marry me!" And then he would take his false teeth out and laugh some more. I do remember his great sense of humor.

He called me Kitty when I was little and he was the only one I allowed to call me that. It's kind of sweet to have the memory of being given a pet name.

Another time he took us for a drive and he was chewing gum, making it pop, and he kept acting like he was going to open the car door while the car was moving, and saying maybe he should get out and let us drive. It was a little scary, but I think he was just having some fun with us. I guess I associated my dad with both danger and fun.

The years passed and we saw less and less of him. Part of that was mine and my sister's choice, because it was too painful to have no communication for long lengths of time and then have him show up suddenly. Eventually, we just refused his visits.

As I had children of my own my perspective changed. I had a longing to be known by my father, but was unwilling to take the initiative anymore, because I had tried and been disappointed too many times. Then one of my aunts passed away and I was reunited with my father once more at my aunt's funeral.

I will never forget talking with him in my cousin's garden while he squeezed the juice out of an orange that he had picked from a tree where we sat and talked. He was so nervous he just used that orange to release all the tension he must have felt trying to have a conversation with me. The juice that was extracted by Dad's tension dripped to the ground, like the love that had been held for all those years, and now it was oozing out all over the place.

For the first time I palpably felt my Dad's love for me. It was a powerful moment for both of us, but it was a deeply healing moment for me.

I never dreamed that by the time my father would pass we would have reconciled the way that we did. It was a real gift. I know his granddaughters are all thankful they had a chance to know him, even though only briefly.

Before he left this world he attended my youngest daughter's ballet recital, danced at my eldest daughter's wedding and connected to my middle daughter as only he could, being he was the middle child in his family. He was visibly proud to be a Grandpa, and I'm so thankful that on Father's Day I can celebrate a relationship of healing.