So, I finally figured out my dad loved me. (Why are guys’ relationship with their dads so complicated?) It wasn’t when I wanted to find out, twenty years after my dad died. But, hey, better late than never, right? Still, if I could have done it any other way…
My wife and I were kissing our kids goodnight after twenty minutes of their diddling around: drinks of water, bathroom runs, the clearing of real and imaginary obstacles: glow-in-the-dark sneakers, dragon poop (don’t ask). They were finally in bed.
I began the benedictions. For Beth it was, “I love you more than insert-increasingly-huge-object here.” At the moment it was “the Milky Way.” For Mandy it was, “I’ll never stop loving you.” Only lately she’d started cutting me off with, “Yeah, I know, Dad.” I needed a new line.
Finally, Trudy and I did our own bedtime rituals, hit the lights, and assumed spoon drawer positions.
And then it began:
Titter, titter, titter.
“Honey,” Trudy whispered.
“Get back in bed!” I yelled. The titters stopped. Little feet thumpa-thumped back into their room. We started to drift off again.
Titter, titter, titter.
“You heard Daddy!” Trudy shouted.
Silence.
Drifting.
Almost asleep.
Thumpa, thump, titter, titter, titter.
“Last time!” Trudy warned. “Get back in bed and stay there!” Even I was scared.
We’d almost made it to slumberland when the thumps and titters resumed.
It was an unusually bad night.
“OK, that’s it!” I shouted. I leaped from the bed. Ran out the door. Down the hall and into the kid’s room. Just in time to see the covers wafting down onto their beds and hear the springs squeaking frantically. And then I lost it. I shouted. Not in that controlled “parent” way like my wife did. More like an erupting volcano:
“Don’t you dare get out of those beds again! Do you hear me?”
Brittle, terrifying silence.
“Do! You! Hear! Me?”
Deafening silence.
And then, the worst sound in the universe: the sound of children crying—not ordinary kid-crying, but the sound of children crying out of fear. Fear that I had created, that I, their father, had created. Because I was mad. In both senses of the word: Angry. And crazy. Because these were–are–two of the three humans I loved most in the universe.
My dad had this anger thing. He’d go along for weeks or months at a time, and then something would set him off, and he’d detonate. Like an atom bomb. He scared the you-know-what out of me. But you know what I hated most about it?
That I caught it from him.
I looked down at Mandy and Beth, crying in the dark, and I suddenly knew two things: I never wanted them to be afraid of me. Ever. And I never wanted them to doubt my love. Ever. So I got down on my knees between their beds and asked God to forgive me.
Then I asked Beth and Mandy to forgive me.
Mandy crawled out of bed and put her skinny little arm over my shoulder and said, “I forgive you, Daddy…and I know you’ll never stop loving me.” Then Beth was there, crying because Mandy was crying, and she said, “I love you universes and universes full!”
There was a third thing I knew that night–really knew–for the first time ever: That my dad loved me. Because for about five minutes I was him, all anger and self-loathing, and I suddenly realized that, along with his anger, I got his love. And I knew that he would have died a thousand deaths for me, just like I would for my kids.
Because he loved me.
⇔ ⇔ ⇔
Pastors, Teachers, and Actors: The above is a personal account, but you can download a performable script version by clicking here.
What an emotional post. Excuse me, I think I have something in my eye 😢
Yeah, I got pretty choked up recounting the incident.
Teared up. Why is anger so damn contagious ?!
Not sure, but it certainly is.
Praise God our children (and spouses) are so forgiving of our blunders, thoughtless reactions, and even fits of temper–IF we simply humble ourselves and admit our missteps. The final result is truly miraculous, as your anecdote illustrates: love expands with the apologies, to fill universes and universes. Great post, Mitch!
Aw, thanks for the comment–and the grace–dear, Nancy.
Mitch, its powerful and it nailed me……in my heart. thanks
I’ve come to believe that we must learn to forgive ourselves before we can fully appreciate the love in others. This beautiful post just reminded me of that. Thank you. <3
I still can not read this with dry eyes.
…but always with a glad heart. You taught
your girls so much with that simple apology.
Hope so, Sarah. Taught myself a lot, at any rate.
I caught the anger bug from a parent, too. Very shortly after I became a disciple of the Lord, I asked Him to break the cycle and heritage of anger by stopping it with me. He did – by moving us and our very young family away from any of our extended families. And it took time. And prayer. And I still relapse from time to time. But thanks be to God, my kids have been spared a life of constant simmering with erratic flares. And they are much more cool-headed than I was at their ages.
I now pray it will be even less in their future families.
Love the way you put wheels on your faith, Heather.
Powerful story my friend. Thanks for putting this out there.
We never know until we walk in their shoes. My dad was the same and it took me years of parenting and growing old to realize it. I still loved him universes and universes full too. Lovely post.
Aww, thanks.
Hope you are happy that you made this grown man cry. I think I need a hug or something now. 😢
Great post.
;>) Thanks, John.
Oh, Mitch… you had me laughing and crying both. Powerful post! Love it. Nothing more to say. 🙂
Thank you, Lynn.
Thanks for this post that says so much about being a parent and loving our children, even in our imperfection.
Yep, only choice we’ve got. Thank you, Shirley.
Lovely post.
OH gosh! Thanks for making my eyes water! Heart felt beautiful post, that I know many parents will identify with! Thank you for sharing from your heart!
My privilege, Joy.
🙂
That story is so great because it is so real. Transparency helps us all to understand ourselves so much more. Thank you! God bless!
You too, Nancy!
Mitch,
We learn from our parents. Isn’t that how the Lord is great? He gives us opportunity that He guides us through that our parents did not.
Gary
Omgosh! You made me cry!💕
Reblogged this on All The Shoes I Wear and commented:
A post today that both made me cry and warmed my heart! One grear father and husband.
Aw, thank you, Laura.
So very true. I found that once you have children you understand SO much more. Thank you for sharing.
This is beautiful, takes a real dad to share such a story so gracefully. It made me think about the times my parents tell me “you’ll know it for yourself when you become a parent” :). Thank you for sharing.
The honor is mine, Hazal.
My heart is with you and I admire your honesty. Parenting is the most difficult job on the planet.
Love this! Parenting has a way of humbling us like nothing else can. Thanks for sharing your gift with the rest of us.
If I said, “God told me to,” I suspect you’d know just what I mean, Russ.
That was so honest and so powerful, Mitch! And believe me, I can relate to every word. I have come to believe that we really can pass on the best of what our parents gave us, and leave the rest behind, where it belongs. We just need to want to badly enough. Thanks for sharing this!
Thank you, Ann. It is indeed doable, but only with perseverance (and forgiving kids).
Seriously, forgiveness is the key!
Mitch that is such a powerful, moving story with a very important message. Every time I lost my temper with my children, I ended up in tears and asking for forgiveness as well as strength to control my temper. Thank you for sharing.
My honor, Carla. We’ve all been there at one time or another, haven’t we.
I am cutting an onion. 😏
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I think we can carry this over to our heavenly Father, as well. Even when He is disciplining us and we are hurting from the consequences of our own behavior, we can know that He loves us with an everlasting love.
Beautiful Post Mitch, one that resonated with me for reasons much like yours.
I wanted to say not only are you like your Dad, you are like your Father God, made in his image. You are loved and adored by both, despite your disobedience, and both are angry with disobedience.
Your earthly Father could only pour out his anger on to you. However, your heavenly Father nailed his anger to the cross.
The only reason we can be any different to our earthly fathers is because we have a higher love in God the Father and a higher solution for our anger. Christ. When we live nailing our anger to the cross we can pour out the love of God the Father on our children instead of our wrath.
Then they will see Jesus in us instead of our earthly ancestors.
God bless you and thank you for the encouragement to be real with God and real with each other.
Thanks so much for your thoughtful and insightful response, Lauren.
Almost in tears. Absolutely beautiful.
Thank you, Esther.
Powerful story. Many of us have been there, the angry parent with anger out of love not hate.
Indeed. Thanks, Julie.
lovely words telling an important message, I’m sure it will strike a cord with many readers.
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Hey Mitch! I do not see a contact place so I will ask you here. Would you allow me to post this article and others from your blog on my magazine at christiangrandfather.org?
Of course, Andy, I’d be honored.
Thanks so much! Always looking for unique writers like yourself. I will use the profile pic you have on Your blog. God Bless!
You too!
I need your email address to set up your author account. Could you send me an email to andy@christiangrandfather.org so i can use it please? Thanks!