G’d Morning to one and all! and Happy Father’s Day …
I’m tearing up here as I type. There’s serious good n bad memories of my bio-dad who is still alive, I believe, but I was so hurt, I can’t go there again, or should I say, I refuse to. My George stepped into my life when I was 5 and rescued me from an abusive situation and passed from pancreatic cancer in ’99. I pulled him thru his last year, keeping him comfy and not feeling stressed myself except knowing I was going to lose my best friend soon to death. He’d entered my life in a sports car, of all things. Immediately trying to entertain me, which was a total about face to what I had been accustomed to. He told me about the fairies – it opened my eyes to the world of fantasy. He “allowed” me to be a child. I forever thank him for that but upon first meeting him, I thought him totally nuts. That’s how abused I was emotionally. Then came the bruises. He crippled me for life in regards to what I should think a husband should be. I took a lot of college courses and went to a lot of counseling to get past unacceptable feelings and hostility. I stayed to myself more to be quiet within and find GOD. That’s why I refused to acknowledge my bio-dad now. I am Betty – I am my own person, God is my friend.
I just found this clip and wanted to share with the many of you who’ve had the luck to be born with good dads – warning: get the Kleenex
I Wish You Enough
At an airport, I overheard a father and daughter in their last moments together. They had announced her plane’s departure and standing near the door, he said to his daughter, “I love you, I wish you enough.” She said, “Daddy, our life together has been more than enough. Your love is all I ever needed. I wish you enough, too, Daddy.” They kissed good-bye, and she left. He walked over toward the window where I was seated. Standing there, I could see he wanted and needed to cry. I tried not to intrude on his privacy, but he welcomed me in by asking, “Did you ever say good-bye to someone knowing it would be forever?”
“Yes, I have,” I replied. Saying that brought back memories I had of expressing my love and appreciation for all my Dad had done for me. Recognizing that his days were limited, I took the time to tell him face to face how much he meant to me. So I knew what this man was experiencing.
“Forgive me for asking, but why is this a forever good-bye?” I asked.
“I am old, and she lives much too far away. I have challenges ahead, and the reality is her next trip back will be for my funeral,” he said.
“When you were saying good-bye, I heard you say, ‘I wish you enough.’ May I ask what that means?”
He began to smile. “That’s a wish that has been handed down from other generations. My parents used to say it to everyone.” He paused for a moment, and looking up as if trying to remember it in detail, he smiled even more.
“When we said ‘I wish you enough,’ we were wanting the other person to have a life filled with enough good things to sustain them,” he continued, and then turning toward me, he shared the following as if he were reciting it from memory.
“I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright. I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun more. I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive. I wish you enough pain so that the smallest joys in life appear much bigger. I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting. I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess. I wish you enough ‘Hellos’ to get you through the final ‘Good-bye.'”
He then began to sob and walked away.
We all have paths to go down. It’s just in our scripting of life prewritten by God. My George had two girls born to him and a first wife prior to marrying my mom. His first wife thought him so far out, she kept those girls from seeing/communicating with him, so he agreed to let them be adopted by their new stepfather. At 21, they both got in touch with him. One is a snooty nose-in-the-air gal you wouldn’t care if she got hit by a car, & the other one is a school teacher living just south of Dallas busy with having an affair with a married man n had his baby. When George passed, as I was coming back from the church, the phone rang. It was the latter girl. She said she’d seen the obituary notice and that it was her dad and wanted to know what he’d left her. She said she didn’t even know he was sick, then wanted to know who I was. I had been living here, caring for him since mom died, 6 years prior, I informed her. OH, she said. Well, what did he leave me? teehee…she giggled. OH, I called him every few days and saw him at least once a month, she said! All I could say was, I’ve been here and am sure you didn’t. No need to exaggerate now. He left you the pickled okra. Have a good day. And, hung up. I kept my promise to Mom n George to not be ugly nor rude. They’d been put thru a rough life too. I went back to the church and prayed for them – they needed it more than I. I had Mom n George’s spirits visiting me from time to time, they didn’t. I was lucky. I’m sorry I had to borrow a dad, just to have one. I always thought God issued one to each of us. Defective ones should be rejects and leave your life, or not have been there at all. It’s simple, but on days like this, there’s this gap. It’s like the loss. The gap is huge. My bio-dad’s treatment of me made me feel so awkward hugging My George, so now I’m feeling so sorry I didn’t spend more time doing just that – and it’s too late. I have the comforting knowledge that his last words, to me or anyone for that matter, were, Betty, I love you.
May each of you appreciate the good men in your life TODAY and not waste your precious time on the rejects.
Tell them thank you for being there for you.
Make this THEIR SPECIAL DAY.
Their body won’t last forever, but their love will, because the spirit lives on …
Share a hug today!