THE DADDY I DIDN'T KNOW

I started crying. It got worse. I finally pulled the car over on an interstate exit. Better than driving off the road blinded by tears.

It was over 20 years ago, but the memory is vivid. I was on my way to Indianapolis for a meeting. I was listening to a tape. It was humorist Dave Barry. I was enjoying laughs that delighted my soul.

And then, it happened. Dave Barry started talking about his Dad. I don’t remember what he said, but I remember what happened to me. I suddenly realized how much I didn’t know about my Daddy. I was aware of huge gaps in my awareness of my Daddy’s story. And I began to cry. 

I had missed so much of my Daddy’s life. Oh, we had lived together for my first 18 years and I knew him.  But I realized that I didn’t really know him. There was so much that I had not seen. I wept over how much was hidden—some by him and some by my blindness. 

He has swallowed much of his pain to protect his children from the burdens of adulthood too soon. He hid behind his manhood—his role of providing stability and security for his family. He hid his unfulfilled dreams so we could fulfill our dreams. He buried his desires to satisfy the needs of those he loved.

And I didn’t know my Daddy because I was blind. I was blinded by my need for him to live beyond the mundane vulnerabilities of other humans; by my anger over his not being all I wanted him to be; by my sophomoric confidence that I new everything.

Fortunately for me, my Daddy was still alive at that point. And I made time to be alone with him, just to hear who he really was, unfiltered by others perceptions. And I am so glad I did. Some gaps were filled. Many were not. When he died, I wept for the loss of the Daddy I did know, but also, for the Daddy I did not know and would never know.

A CRACK

We spend a lifetime building them. We lay the foundation for them and carefully work to create stability and equilibrium. Our ego, our self-esteem, our relationships, all intangible but essential to our sense of safety and security. 

But, inevitably something happens. Self-doubt invades. We make a mistake and wonder what happened. We don’t live up to our own expectations and beat up on ourselves. We are betrayed or hurt and our relationships feel fragile. We lose our job and doubt our worth. 

And it is at times like this that we can sing with meaning the words of Leonard Cohan in his classic Anthem: “There is a crack in everything.” It doesn’t seem to matter how hard we try, that which we love seems to always give way to the aging, decaying, breaking reality of mortal life. Storms come, foundations crack, windows break, walls warp.

But, if we are able to hold on, sometimes hope comes, “There is a crack in everything/That’s how the light gets in.” The cracks in the secured ego allow the of the outside in and more of who we are to be revealed. It can allow light to shine into the unexplored regions of our self-understanding or our relationships. We can know more fully who we are.

Sometimes the truth isn’t easy to see. The light reveals things that we would rather not know. Our confusion about who we are can frighten us and make us reluctant to step out and give ourselves to relationships in the future.

Or, we can relax and sing the other part of the song’s refrain, “Forget your perfect offering/There is a crack in everything/That’s how the light gets in.” None of us is whole. We are all cracked. Our offering to each other will never be perfect.  So, forget your perfect offering and give yourself, cracked and broken, filling with light.

WINDOWS

Words are windows. They are windows on the soul. Sometimes the windows are clean and the view inside is crystal clear.  When words are used to express a truthful insight into the speaker’s heart, they can help us know each other more intimately.

But, sometimes the word-windows are fogged over. Sometimes the window is smudged and the what we see is distorted. Sometimes the words we use are designed to obscure a clear picture of what is really going on inside. Other times the windows are covered with shades to cloak the fear or dampen the desire.

I am satisfied that both kinds of window-words are important to help us navigate life. If we are communicating with someone we trust will treat what they see with respect, we will be inclined to use words that reveal as much of who we are as we or they can tolerate. We want to be known by people who will hear us with mercy, not judge us with malice. These grace filled relationships are sacred gifts to a lonely soul.

But, there are other situations where we find ourselves uncertain about how others will treat what they discover about us. When we are in these kinds of relationships, we will be hesitant to allow them to see too much. We will pull the shades on the window of our souls to protect our hearts from the glare of critical eyes.

So, be careful how you receive what you see through the windows others open to you. Listen with an ear that hears the tremor or delight in the voice. Notice with your eyes seeing the tears rimming the eye—tears of tenderness or tears of terror. Be interested, not critical of what you hear. Know that the soul of another is not yours to trample, but is a gift for you to receive that will help ease the loneliness in both of you.

LINES

There we were—grocery shopping for the contribution we are making to the Thanksgiving gathering. And there we were with all the other shoppers from North East Indianapolis trying to get our baskets through the isles. 

And when we finished shopping we went to check out.  And, you guessed it, we faced lines—not as long as they will be tomorrow, but long enough to make us wonder, “Where are all the cashiers?”  And I did what I always do—look at other lines to see if they are going faster. And as I stand there, I crane my neck to see how fast it is moving, somehow thinking that if I could just see it and get my blood pressure up high enough it would do something to make the line move faster.

But, today I had a memory. And it helped. Today I remembered hearing a speaker once talk about standing in line at Starbucks—a long line.  And everyone was grumbling. And she just shouted out to everyone, “Hey, let’s dance!!” And she started singing and dancing and others joined in. And before she knew it, she was placing her order.

I thought of that today and wondered how much of my time is spent looking ahead hoping life will move faster and all along missing the life that is going on around me in the moment. I realized that leaning into the line and longing to be finished with the moment blinded me to those around me who might be interesting to talk with and share life with.

So, I hope I can keep this perspective in this “lining-up” season where I will be in traffic lines, checkout lines, restaurant lines. I hope I can find a song that I can dance to and open my heart to the life I am living rather than the life that I think I might live if I weren’t in line.

SOUL FOOD

It is just one of those days.  You know how they come from time to time and you just feel crappy—for no apparent reason?  Maybe it is the sliding temperatures, the heavy gray clouds, the cold wind that blows through the autumn clothes. Or maybe I am just due one of those days.

And my wife, Deborah, saw the my hang dog eyes and soon I noticed the aroma filling the house. Familiar! Warm! Memorable! And I went out of my study there was a rack of freshly baked oatmeal cookies filled with raisins and walnuts. Comfort food. Childhood memories! My soul warmed.

I got a glass of milk and ate a couple. Deb said, “Eat more!! Have as many as you want.! And I did.  “When was the last time you ate as many as you wanted?”  I couldn’t remember. A lifetime ago before my belt started complaining whenever I ate so much sugar. Back before I knew that sugar was addictive and that I ought to pace myself.

But, today I ate a few. And it was wonderful!  I began to feel better. I know that comfort eating can be a problem. I know that using food to deal with emotional issues can be a problem. I do not recommend this way of dealing with crappy days.

But, today it seemed OK. Today it was just what the soul longed for. Today it made me feel more human—or at least like the human I want to be. It was soft, warm, sugary, cinnamon, soul food.

And I loved it!