2nd round of antibiotics. Plans for Christmas are changing. Including housemate's family coming to town. New DVD's arrived yesterday: Fight Club, Wizard of Oz, Moulin Rouge, two more that I can't remember. New housemates on the horizon. Lots of visa difficulties--darn those Schengen countries. Possibility of new furniture today. House needs extreme cleaning. But no pipes burst. Oh yeah.
When did my father smile? What is one really great thing he did for me? What is one happy memory of him?
I don't know. Is it that I don't want to know, or that none of those things exist?
The last time I saw my dad was at a funeral home in Alabama, late November 2003. (My cousin, after suffering from schizophrenia for about 30 years, gave into the voices and stopped them by shooting himself.) My father had, very obviously, been drinking. I arrived at the funeral home later than I should have, so there'd be no lack of people to talk to or things to say. Somehow I stayed later than I intended, ended up being one of the last few . Dad was still there and still drunk. Mobile phone call: 'Hey sister, did Dad drive himself over here? If he did I'm not sure he should drive home.' 'Oh, I've seen him worse, he'll be OK.'
I drove my non-drunk self home to Tennessee.
It's Christmas. I've promised to go see him.
I don't want to.
Yes, every boy needs a father, as katiek recently wrote. I still need one. I need a father who knows me. I need a father to talk to when I'm in trouble. I need a dad to teach me about girls and life and work and cars and responsibility and love.
I'm not going to get one, and I know it. My father doesn't know how to do 'the stuff.'
Most days I'm just fine knowing that. No, most days I'm just fine with forgetting the need. Most days I'm self-sufficient and capable and OK. I'm even fine with watching my friends be great dads. I'm fine watching them have kids, watching them glorying in the role God has given them, watching them being blessed and changed by their kids. But this day I had to go buy an obligatory Christmas present.
'Mike, he doesn't need clothes, he doesn't need anything for the house.' 'I could always bring beer!'
I walked, destitute again, through Barnes & Noble. There was nothing. Nothing to give. Nothing that makes any sense. Nothing good to give from anywhere, any store, not coffee, or a souvenir, or a water bottle, or a leatherman.
The best I can do is--a picture frame. (Target will do you right in your hour of need.) I'll have to send the picture later. That's the best I can do.
For years I've said, 'If the best I can do is nothing, then I'm fine with that.' I'm not proud of the picture frame--I didn't make it, I don't even have the picture I want to put in it, it's just a picture frame. But it's the best I can do right now. For my father.
But I believe that God gives us the parents we need. For some of us it is severe mercy. For some of us it is a hard road.
And I believe that despite and because of my parents, I will continue to seek God. To try--in the moments that come, in years that are awful as well as joyful, in the tasks that come to my hand--to serve God. Maybe my deficiency, the lack of a decent dad and a 1950's style family, is actually a tool. It can help me connect with and possibly minister to other children who've been abandoned and exposed to the dangers of life. To my friends who flirt with the idea of divorce. To people who have ceased to recognize their need, whose hearts have shut down. To all of us who need a dad.
The worst semester ever is over. Final grades are submitted. Now I just have to pay attention to all of those things I've been ignoring. Things in the office and out. Like spring break. And Brussels. And dirty laundry. And sleep. And cooking.
I want to get back in the gym. I want to sleep for a couple of days. I want to figure out where my efforts got off track, where my time got screwed up, where I lost it. I know I lost clarity. I feel like my brain has caught a bigtime cold, not just a light sneeze. I lost lots of other things too, and I'm just now beginning to figure out what they are.
I want to feel the love of God again.
'Sleep deprivation--it's not just for breakfast anymore!'
B--'Centralization of mess...'
M--'sounds like my heart'
'Grape juice is NOT like vermouth.'
'Are those capital letters perchance?'
The weather is too great.
We met for the last time this morning. And it was muffin day. Oh yeah.
End of the semester. Craziness. Sudden departures. Sudden fits of tears. Bursts of laughter. Time to grade papers and finals. Got to get some sleep and remember to take my antibiotics on time. Someone from MTW is checking my blog. Who is it? We wonders. Student visa applications for Belgium. Think about the future. Look for new housemates. Rake leaves. Track down new phone numbers for old friends. All housecleaning forsaken. No Christmas tree. Again. Jesus bless the children.
My good friend Scott Raymond has resigned from his position atCovenant College. Please pray for him, for his family, and for the Student Development staff as they all deal with this change.