Recently I had a grown up conversation with my father
My father and I have always enjoyed what I considered a mature relationship. He made a big impression on me early in life when he lovingly managed my fears. We share mutual interests and can talk about politics, religion and many other subjects. We both love reading, and to my children’s dismay, I inherited his taste in music. Despite our closeness, my father and I have never talked about feelings. Until recently.
After a particularly difficult text message from him, I was forced to confront a gap in our relationship. It was time to have a different kind of conversation with my dad. His message had a gap of about 25 years; I felt he had missed some of the important events in my life and was totally out of tune with the woman I had become. His ignorance saddened me; I sat with the sadness for a few days before I made the decision to give him a call.
My father is humble, and though he doesn’t say it much I know, he loves me. The knowledge and assurance of his love influenced honesty with respect.
We live 9000 miles apart and despite the use of technology the enormous gap meant our relationship did not progress from our usual chatter into him learning about the woman I had become. He was unfamiliar with the values I embraced. Therefore when we spoke to some extent, I felt I was talking to a stranger, introducing myself for the first time.
Telling the man who I felt should know me more than anyone about myself was sad. Somehow he missed the crucial decisions that had shaped the trajectory of my life. I wondered whether that was my responsibility to share or his natural interest should dictate the right kind of questions that would unearth my life’s purpose. I have not decided yet who is right. Nevertheless, I concluded that sometimes grown folks still need their parents. Yesterday I shared in parenting with confidence that my grandmother met my need for specialness and attention. When she died, no one took her place.
In thinking about my conversations with my father, my wondering about who was wrong him for not being attentive or me for not sharing. My thoughts inevitably led to one place, and I became stuck. I had spent so many years hiding parts of me that it was not possible for him to know me.
He does not know the most impacting event I experienced and how much that event shaped my life today. The imprint that it left on my relationships, parenting and life. And so even as I introduced the woman who I had become there was an important part of that story that I had to omit. It was not a conversation I wanted to have via the telephone. I could not tell him how the abuse suffered in childhood and the healing I received influenced my decision to help other people heal. I could not share this information because I knew the impact that it would have on him.
Take away from my conversation
Love has enormous responsibilities and sometimes carry heavy burdens. At times love means that we protect people from being hurt by our pain.
Join me tomorrow for Key lessons I learnt from my father. Until then here is Lesson one
Also, join me in the Facebook group Wounds that Heal for more training on how to manage emotions.