Papa

I googled my father’s name a few minutes back. I’m not sure what it is I was hoping to find. Maybe an essay written by him or about him. I thought maybe I could come across some pictures and just stare at the face of the man I last saw and interacted with in 1999.

I hardly remember the sound of my father’s voice. I was nine when he passed away. I remember his face. I look a lot like my father. My mother tells me so. I can see it especially as I grow older. I have pictures of him. I miss my father.

The past couple of months haven’t been anything I would ever choose for myself or for anyone. I like to be in control of my life. I like to know what is happening so that I can choose. I hate it when things happen to me that make me feel so out of control. I haven’t felt like I have a handle on my life for a very long time. I miss my dad.

Last night I was talking to God and realised that I was very specific about who I was talking to. I said, ” God, I need you . I need you to just come and make everything okay.” Then it hit me that I was very deliberately referring to God , the father. Not Jesus. Not the Holy Spirit. God the father. When I told Him that I needed Him, I meant that I want my father. He’s the only father I have and right now, I really could use a father.

In my mind, fathers represent strength and protection. My dad, the one whose physical DNA I carry, always made me feel so safe. However, the thing I remember the most is that he made me feel accepted. I don’t know why but from early on in life, I felt like I was weird. Like, there was a certain way I should be and I wasn’t that way. However, with my dad, that feeling went away. It was almost like, he didn’t see that. I felt very loved and accepted by my father.

Truth be told, I don’t have that many memories of my father. Sometimes, I miss all that could have been. I miss the relationship I could have had with him as an adult. I imagine that maybe , even at this age, I would still feel very accepted by my father. I fell asleep to thoughts of my father last night. I fell asleep smiling. I knew him for a short while and it was all beautiful.

This is my first time writing in a while. I haven’t wanted to. I would just stare at my screen and then shut down. I had the words. I would just lose the interest as soon as I looked at the screen. Pain is a very selfish thing. It calls all attention to self, don’t you even dare look away. It can also be an overwhelming thing.

God, I need you. God, I need you to come and make everything al right. I need you to remind me that I am fully loved and accepted always, regardless. I need you to lead me back home. I am feeling quite lost.

 

 

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