One of my friend's favorite sayings is: "Life is what happens when you're busy planning it." I believe I paraphrased that, supposedly John Lennon said it first...smart man. But, regardless of who said it, or how it was said, you get the picture.
I was busy planning my life or what I like to think of as planning and then or course, the inevitable happened..."Life". What do you do, but ride the wave and see where it takes you? I mean that's really all you can do; pray, do the best you can do, and then there it is.
That being said, here I was, just back from my trip when I got a call from my half-sister. She and I haven't spoken in 20 years, but not for reasons that come to mind. We weren't angry, hurt, or even slightly put off, we just drifted in different lives. I wasn't raised in her family. A long time ago my biological father made a choice to live under his manipulative wife's rule(my stepmother). I was not part of that plan, and so I was ousted. I tried to maintain a relationship with my father, but it just didn't happen.
Long story short, my sister informed me that my father wasn't doing well. I called him but never got an answer, so I assumed I had an incorrect telephone number. Well, recently I ended up in the hospital, nothing really serious, had some tests run and I suppose I'll live. :) But when I was in the hospital word got to my aunt, whom in turn, told my sister. My sister told her mother as life would have it my father ended up just down the hall from me in the same hospital. Divine intervention, me thinks. My stepmother stopped by my room and when I questioned her about the trying to contact my dad, her response was yes I knew you were, we just didn't want to answer the phone. What?!!! Ah well, divine intervention held both my dad and I captive in the same hospital just several rooms down from each other.
I went to see him, I.V. still in my arm, we had a talk and when my stepmother left the room I prayed with him. And then it happened... For 40 years I have waited to hear the words that my father spoke... "Well, you know Monica, I always loved you." I wanted a retort, I wanted to fuss, I wanted to tell him that he could have said that so many years ago, but I didn't. I simply, replied, "Daddy I love you too.
My father passed away last Thursday and he is finally happy and free from the tyrannical rule he chose for himself.
My sister has been the intercessor throughout this whole process and I appreciate that and hopefully we will maintain a relationship as a result.
I'd like to say to all my readers(all two of them) to not let a moment of this life pass you by without saying what you have to say. Life is...well, you know. :)
...and to my dad, go rest high on that mountain.
Love,
Monica
5 comments:
May your father rest in peace.
It's a good thing your half sister is not like your step mother or you'll end up not seeing your father at all. I am glad for you that you managed to have those rare and priceless moments with him before he went. It's good for him to go knowing that you love him no matter what had happened. And for you, may you go on with your life (meatless..), live a good life blessed with a father's love that will continue to reach out to you even on the other side.
You are 40 plus ? I just turn 40 this month :)
Let me take this moment to say this. Thanks for being a good blogger friend. Thanks for broadening my horizon. Thanks for giving me insight into life on the other side of the world. Hugs.
Yes, it is a good thing that my sister stepped in, otherwise I don't think I would have found out about my dad's passing other than the newspaper.
Must I tell my age? hehehe I'm 41, I said that to emphasize the fact that in all my life my dad never told me he loved me. Why do I feel as though I should be lying on a coutch and you should be writing notes? lol!
"Thank me?" Well, let me just say Mrs. Blue, thank you. Thank you for being so uplifting and positive. Even though the people who post on my blog are miles away, they are in my heart; my friends.
Oh, and by-the-way, Happy Birthday!!!!!
That is such a sad story, Moni. Unfortunately, it is far too common. I grew up having several step mothers, and they always take over the ship, and my father never had the balls or the will to assert on my behalf. So I was always a victim. She sounds like a rotten apple, and I'm sorry you had to deal with that.
Yeah Scott I know what you mean, my dad could never muster the courage to be on my side either. But you know, you have turned your past into heart wrenching stories damn fine writing that serve to inspire and entertain.
That brings to mind one of my favorite stories you wrote. The one about the little boy and the cookie jar, "Hard Love" I think it was. May I link it?
Moni, sorry I didn't see your question until now. Of course you can link it. You don't have to ask.
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