The old man ---In The Air Tonight

My personal trails have also taught me the value of unmerited suffering. As my sufferings mounted I soon realized that there were two ways that I could respond to my situation: either to react with bitterness or seek to transform the suffering into a creative force. I decided to follow the latter course. Recognizing the necessity for suffering I have tried to make of it virtue. If only to save myself from bitterness, I have attempted to see my personal ordeals as an opportunity to transform myself and heal the people involved in the tragic situation, which now obtains. I have lived these last few years with the conviction that unearned suffering is redemptive.
-Martin Luther King, Jr., “Suffering and Faith” (excerpt), "Christian Century Magazine", April 27, 1960

Wish I could have met him….

Everyone has a story they could share. Mine is probably not much different from many bearing their souls in blogs... Sheng Fu wrote (I paraphrase), “Why are there misfortunes in the world? Misfortunes are usually the just reward for our sins, but this is certainly not true in my own case!” I could not agree more.

My father did not love me. I am not shy to admit that. He was quite frank about his disaffection. For this I was grateful; a father’s love can be onerous. I might have had the horror of attending him in his last illness, arguing about going into his business, being forced to provide him with heirs. hahaha

As a child, I had always assumed that my father did not love me, not only because his actions seemed unloving, but also because he had never told me that he did. The truths are often the words that are left unspoken. My father did not know how to love me the way I desired. His own parents had not passed on this knowledge to him. Had he known how to do things differently, I assumed he surely would have.

My search for my father's love ended with the knowledge that he has always loved me but never would he show it, as I grew up I could count with fingers the moments he touched me. In the same way, even through my anger, I have always loved him. Over time the anger was unmasked, the truth could be revealed.

It suddenly seemed very important that I not let my life slip away without communicating the love I held for my father. I had made the decision to never live with the regret of unspoken words when I was finally able to say to my father, "I love you." Even when I did there was not emotion, I was looking into a face that bear no emotions, he just walked away. I crumbled, I picked up the pieces and moved on, nothing I did or could do would be good enough, I was often judged and prosecuted. I started to build walls around ...... no one was allowed in my imaginary world..there were nights I would sink in bed soaking the pillow

I knew that I did not have to know how to forgive. I just needed the desire to do so. Forgiveness takes time. There are definite stages to the process. I had already moved through those early stages of anger and was anxious to move quickly into the final stages of acceptance and forgiveness. By now, I was aware that my father's uncontrolled behavior when he had been drinking was an act of love that I had co-created to learn my life's lessons. Because I had this knowledge, I felt that I needed to deny its impact upon my life and the pain that it caused me.

Now the old man is dying………..and I have to be there...i have to

...there is a difference between being convinced and being stubborn. I’m not certain what the difference is, but I do know that if you butt your head against a stone wall long enough, at some point you realize the wall is stone and that your head is flesh and blood…..

I can feel it coming in the air tonight, Oh Lord
I've been waiting for this moment, all my life, Oh Lord
Can you feel it coming in the air tonight, Oh Lord, Oh Lord ................


I know that I'm a prisoner
To all my Father held so dear
I know that I'm a hostage
To all his hopes and fears
I just wish I could have told him in the living years ...............