April 19th I found out that after 15 years of no contact, my father died of prostate cancer. The news was something I had already played over several times in my head in that 15 years and my heart had somewhat accepted. The possibility of him being dead was more likely to accept then the pain of his silence for so long and moving on with his life. WRONG!
Cause when reality dealt that card, I didn’t want to hear that he was dead and I wasn’t angry that he had stayed away so long. The only thing I felt was sadness that he had been so sick and I wasn’t given the opportunity to care for him or help in any way. In the 2 years that he knew about his cancer, he had decided not to do chemotherapy and let the cancer take it’s natural course. But when I went on to hear how he spent his days, I just broke down and cried. Releasing my deep routed tears was accompanied by an overwhelming pride for how my dad chose to spend his time. I was so proud of him. He had found purpose in his life and was reaching out to those less fortunate, coordinating meals for the elderly and needy. He had been taken under the "spiritual" protective wing of a Christian couple in Little Rock. Arkansas. They gave him shelter, a place to work and became his family. I found comfort looking at the pictures my sister took of his surrounding home and work areas. Knowing that his atmosphere/space was just a transference of something I grew to love as a child. There was no 2 ton question mark over my head. He was still the father I knew and loved. I live true to what he taught me. Being true to expression of oneself, be creative, appreciate family, celebrate life, the outdoors and God's creation, find strength and trust in my own inner voice, don't waste precious moments (watching tv) and always keep a sense of humor for your own sanity.
After a childhood of disappointment in how my parents dealt with each other, their resentments or regrets while struggling with the stresses of life, I couldn't rationalize the bitter taste left in my mouth that I carried into my own adult life. Through personal growth, true love and acceptance of my own reality, sweet and sour would have to be my taste of preference in general. Taking the bad with the good concept. Which I would like to follow in my fathers foot steps and find a way to help others while I process my own troubles. But even if my good semariton career doesn't come through, I know that my good deeds and best efforts as a decent human being will be a daily occurance in everything I do. Thank you Dad, for who you are inside of me. Much love to you!
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