Installment eighteen, in a 31 day series, Forgotten or Chosen?
[If you’ve missed previous days, click here]
It took a week for all of this to settle in my heart and I had to ask myself, “what am I afraid of?” We chatted over Facebook and then I called Courtney and we talked for two hours.
There were two questions I needed an answer to, “how did our father die?” and “what was he like?“
He repeated his past when he left our half-brother as a baby and Courtney and Stacie while in their early teens. She told me about the jobs he held and the places they lived. The stories revealed a brilliant and talented man who continued to live a secret life and died alone.
There, in a locked box, they found the secrets of his past, photographs with our first names and chronological dates written in ink that ended when our grandmother passed away.
They didn’t know our last names but they found us…
My brother and I met our half-brother and half-sisters in Seattle for a long weekend. When I saw the faces of my siblings I knew them. We hugged and it felt like family.
The segments of time lost to no connection were pieced together like a puzzle. A time line of dates, events and places of my father’s life allowed me to find my place in him. [Tweet this!]
I know my father.
He was a news reporter and did interviews for a television station. He interviewed people like you and me and some “not-so-regular” people, senators and governors. I was intrigued to see a glossy black and white of him interviewing Richard Nixon. He worked as an aid for the governor of Wyoming.
My father loved photographing trees, flowers, boats and scenery. Framed photographs of the beautiful nature God has created line the walls of our house. Walking and bicycling and capturing nature’s beauty behind a camera lens has made my life rich.
When I saw the picture of him with the golden, my heart skipped and I closed my eyes. To think that he adored the dog breed I’ve loved my entire life.
My father was a PTA parent. He took his daughters to soccer practice and Girl Scouts. He was a father to his daughters and he did what good dads do.
The truth about my father has changed my perspective. I am able to see him in a different light. An unexpected gift, God used this to fill my heart with love for this man whose blood runs through my veins. He gave me a glimpse into the life of a talented man who loved and nurtured until he no longer could, when he allowed a substance to cover the pain of his own short-comings.
His secrets are finally exposed and the fact our father left no longer holds power over me.
I know my Father and my Father knows me.
Consider this verse in Isaiah:
…The Lord called me before my birth; from within the womb he called me by name.
Isaiah 49:1 NLT
Consider this verse in Jeremiah:
I knew you before I formed you in your mother’s womb. Before you were born I set you apart and appointed you… Jeremiah 1:5 NLT