Sunday, June 20, 2004
Here is my soap box for the week. Bear with me. I am taking Derek's advice and no longer viewing my journal as a source of entertainment for my loyal viewers, but as it should be...a place to gather my thoughts and work through issues. Granted, it is a public journal so some things will be censored, but I will be talking about some depressing issues at times...and if you get saddened by that feel free to skip over the sad ones! I just need this...for me.
Today is Sunday, June 20. the day after the slaves were freed in the south over 100 years ago. the day before Alexis's birthday. In 2004, the day before TBS begins to air BMW at 4 everyday. Oh yeah, and it is Father's Day. Growing up this was the most important day of the year. My dad was the most incredible person in the world...anyone who knew him for at least 5 seconds can vouch for that. And 364 days out of the year it was all about what he could do for us. The toys he would bring home from work, the flowers he brought my mom at least once a week just because he loved her, the hobbies he would pick up just to spend time with his kids, the hours and hours spent working on his sunday school lessons for the precious 3-4 year olds who, to this day, count him as one of their biggest influences. If there was ever a selfless person, it was my dad. He got all his joy out of doing for others, and the highlight of his life was spending any time with Brandon, Brian, my mom, and myself. But on fathers day we could do our best to reciprocate all that love. Granted we never did it justice and he never got a glimpse of all he did for us, but we did what we could with what we had. Instead of him making us bacon sandwiches after church, my brothers and I would try our best to throw them together. Instead of him entertaining us all day, we let him sit on the couch and we did whatever he wanted (as long as it didnt require too much work). Instead of him showering us with gifts we spent weeks hand picking out the perfect gifts. Cowboys memorabilia, sports equipment, computer games, cooking supplies, gift certificates, and hand made gifts. Mostly the cowboy memorabilia. In our attic we still have cards that my brothers and I made him on father's day. It was the one day out of the year where we went out of our way to make sure he knew that we appreciated all the spoiling and he knew how excellent a father he was. Father's day 1998 was one of the hardest days of my entire life, next to february 2. I spent the entire day in my bedroom resenting my mom for dating someone, sulking in my own misery, and talking on the phone to my dad's best friend. The clock could not move fast enough. Yes, gladly, the day ended and teh years got easier. For the past few years I have been fortunate enough to have a wonderful friend who spends fathers day with me instead of with her father. Its funny, the turns life takes. Many times I have sat in my bed crying, asking God why her dad, being the horrible father he was to her, is still alive and well while my dad, the most wonderful man I will ever know who would have been an excellent example for all, died. In the end, I may know God's plan. For now, it is still a mystery and I am left trying to decipher it all. Maybe this is ridiculous when compared to God's plan, but if it had in fact been her dad, and not mine, then while I spent fathers day with my dad she would have spent it alone. God puts people in our lives for specific purposes and, if for no other reason, Alexis and I are able to grieve together the pain of not having a father. This year we hadnt really made set plans...we talked about Schlitterbahn, tubing down the Guadalupe...something to top all the rest. And then something incredible happened. Her mom married an excellent man and her aunt decided to throw a father's day dinner as well as Alexis's birthday dinner tonight. As disappointed and heart broken as I was that we were not going to get to wollow in self pity and spend the day together, I knew it was good for her that she be with her new step dad and that she like him. then an even more amazing thing happened...my mom invited me home for breakfast. I know that sounds petty, and I know I am always welcome at home, but on father's day I have made a point not to be at home and I guess I kind of felt like I didnt belong. But this year I was invited. My mom and Alfredo both were shocked I took them up on their offer, as was I, but I made it. I woke up at 5:30 this morning to drive to Houston for breakfast, go to churhc and then lunch, and then back here to work. I never said the words "happy fathers day" and you could see the akwardness in my body language, but I could see the joy it brought to Alfredo to know that I have made one more step in accepting him completely. It is unfortunate, for him, because no matter how excellent he is to me (and believe me, he is an awesome step father) I will always resent that he is my step dad because that is just one more thing to remind me that my dad is gone. Anyway, the closest I got to saying happy fathers day was me saying "reagan wanted to come wish you a happy pipaw's day" I knew it meant a lot to him that I aknowledged the day in any way I could. Breakfast was good, and then we went to church. While sunday school was awesome and I met some great aggies who are in houston for the summer, the service was a bit difficult. I looked over at Emily...my 9 year old step sister...and was reminded that when I was her age a doctor looked me straight in the eye and said that my dad might not live 2 more weeks. She is so tiny...so innocent, naive, and precious. Was I that tiny? Was I that naive to the evils of the world? I knwo I didnt know what pain meant. I know I didnt know what it truly meant to sob. And as I looked at Emily and longed to be that age again, the music group began to sing "You are my All in All" An incredible song, yet one that was sung at my dad's funeral. I held back the tears and made it through the song. (the tears that I held back are now flowing with full force) As hard as this day has been, being able to enjoy it for what it was meant to be was a bitter sweet moment. I will never again be able to shower my dad with gifts, or show him all the love I have in my heart. But, I can share that love with someone else other than myself on this day. As Jesus said "you are the salt of the earth... you are the light of the world" What good are either of those things when hoarded and locked in a room? So I shared myself today with my mom, my step sister, and my step father. And though he will never read this, I do have the strength to type the words...Happy Fathers Day Alfredo...you have been the best step father for the past 5 years. Thank you.
Now that I have cried enough for the whole month! I would like to thank Andi for being so awesome as to remember, from half-way across the world, what today is and the difficulties it brings...as well as Alexis for my sweet phone call. God really does bless us in times of need...thank you so much. Hope you all had a great weekend! au revoir
Today is Sunday, June 20. the day after the slaves were freed in the south over 100 years ago. the day before Alexis's birthday. In 2004, the day before TBS begins to air BMW at 4 everyday. Oh yeah, and it is Father's Day. Growing up this was the most important day of the year. My dad was the most incredible person in the world...anyone who knew him for at least 5 seconds can vouch for that. And 364 days out of the year it was all about what he could do for us. The toys he would bring home from work, the flowers he brought my mom at least once a week just because he loved her, the hobbies he would pick up just to spend time with his kids, the hours and hours spent working on his sunday school lessons for the precious 3-4 year olds who, to this day, count him as one of their biggest influences. If there was ever a selfless person, it was my dad. He got all his joy out of doing for others, and the highlight of his life was spending any time with Brandon, Brian, my mom, and myself. But on fathers day we could do our best to reciprocate all that love. Granted we never did it justice and he never got a glimpse of all he did for us, but we did what we could with what we had. Instead of him making us bacon sandwiches after church, my brothers and I would try our best to throw them together. Instead of him entertaining us all day, we let him sit on the couch and we did whatever he wanted (as long as it didnt require too much work). Instead of him showering us with gifts we spent weeks hand picking out the perfect gifts. Cowboys memorabilia, sports equipment, computer games, cooking supplies, gift certificates, and hand made gifts. Mostly the cowboy memorabilia. In our attic we still have cards that my brothers and I made him on father's day. It was the one day out of the year where we went out of our way to make sure he knew that we appreciated all the spoiling and he knew how excellent a father he was. Father's day 1998 was one of the hardest days of my entire life, next to february 2. I spent the entire day in my bedroom resenting my mom for dating someone, sulking in my own misery, and talking on the phone to my dad's best friend. The clock could not move fast enough. Yes, gladly, the day ended and teh years got easier. For the past few years I have been fortunate enough to have a wonderful friend who spends fathers day with me instead of with her father. Its funny, the turns life takes. Many times I have sat in my bed crying, asking God why her dad, being the horrible father he was to her, is still alive and well while my dad, the most wonderful man I will ever know who would have been an excellent example for all, died. In the end, I may know God's plan. For now, it is still a mystery and I am left trying to decipher it all. Maybe this is ridiculous when compared to God's plan, but if it had in fact been her dad, and not mine, then while I spent fathers day with my dad she would have spent it alone. God puts people in our lives for specific purposes and, if for no other reason, Alexis and I are able to grieve together the pain of not having a father. This year we hadnt really made set plans...we talked about Schlitterbahn, tubing down the Guadalupe...something to top all the rest. And then something incredible happened. Her mom married an excellent man and her aunt decided to throw a father's day dinner as well as Alexis's birthday dinner tonight. As disappointed and heart broken as I was that we were not going to get to wollow in self pity and spend the day together, I knew it was good for her that she be with her new step dad and that she like him. then an even more amazing thing happened...my mom invited me home for breakfast. I know that sounds petty, and I know I am always welcome at home, but on father's day I have made a point not to be at home and I guess I kind of felt like I didnt belong. But this year I was invited. My mom and Alfredo both were shocked I took them up on their offer, as was I, but I made it. I woke up at 5:30 this morning to drive to Houston for breakfast, go to churhc and then lunch, and then back here to work. I never said the words "happy fathers day" and you could see the akwardness in my body language, but I could see the joy it brought to Alfredo to know that I have made one more step in accepting him completely. It is unfortunate, for him, because no matter how excellent he is to me (and believe me, he is an awesome step father) I will always resent that he is my step dad because that is just one more thing to remind me that my dad is gone. Anyway, the closest I got to saying happy fathers day was me saying "reagan wanted to come wish you a happy pipaw's day" I knew it meant a lot to him that I aknowledged the day in any way I could. Breakfast was good, and then we went to church. While sunday school was awesome and I met some great aggies who are in houston for the summer, the service was a bit difficult. I looked over at Emily...my 9 year old step sister...and was reminded that when I was her age a doctor looked me straight in the eye and said that my dad might not live 2 more weeks. She is so tiny...so innocent, naive, and precious. Was I that tiny? Was I that naive to the evils of the world? I knwo I didnt know what pain meant. I know I didnt know what it truly meant to sob. And as I looked at Emily and longed to be that age again, the music group began to sing "You are my All in All" An incredible song, yet one that was sung at my dad's funeral. I held back the tears and made it through the song. (the tears that I held back are now flowing with full force) As hard as this day has been, being able to enjoy it for what it was meant to be was a bitter sweet moment. I will never again be able to shower my dad with gifts, or show him all the love I have in my heart. But, I can share that love with someone else other than myself on this day. As Jesus said "you are the salt of the earth... you are the light of the world" What good are either of those things when hoarded and locked in a room? So I shared myself today with my mom, my step sister, and my step father. And though he will never read this, I do have the strength to type the words...Happy Fathers Day Alfredo...you have been the best step father for the past 5 years. Thank you.
Now that I have cried enough for the whole month! I would like to thank Andi for being so awesome as to remember, from half-way across the world, what today is and the difficulties it brings...as well as Alexis for my sweet phone call. God really does bless us in times of need...thank you so much. Hope you all had a great weekend! au revoir
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