Revolution of the Fatherless

Ten years ago my father passed away.  He died from the vices he so arrogantly and stubbornly participated in.  Inevitably there are things that always, and I mean always lead to death.  My father had decided that he was more capable driving intoxicated than not, so he turned the wrong direction on a highway and found himself flipped in between a median and the highway.  This was his demise.  I’ll never forget the day my father died.

It was a day like any other except I found myself in a deep, deep melancholic mood as I do sometimes during the winter.  I told my wife that I didn’t know why but I was deeply troubled, she just nodded.  That evening at 11:00 my phone rang, and I shot up in bed, shaking, and panting whispering to my wife “My dad is dead.”

I answer the phone.  “Hello, Mr. Mitchell, this is Pastor Bruce from First Baptist, I’m standing here with your mom, is there any way you can come out to her house?  I’ve got some bad news.” ……. Click.

The next three days I didn’t sleep as I drove my mom out to pick up my father’s belongings.  We drove 24 hours straight, saying maybe three words the whole drive.  It was terribly, awfully, painful. 

Reflections:

I still love my father.  I love the intellect, the drive, the passion he had.  I love the way he could spark a conversation with literally anyone.  I love the man he could’ve been.  And there’s the rub.  You see ten years later, I still find myself loving a man that never existed.

I’m a stubborn, individualistic, hard-hearted, driven man.  It takes the power of God to soften me.  It takes the power of God to break through and help me hear advice.  I’ve always lived on my own terms; driven to be the savior because those late nights when dad’s fists were flying, I was the one mom ran to.  I loathe that I can’t save everyone.  It shatters me.  Still.

Ten years later I wish I could say I’ve discovered all the answers to the toughest questions, but really I have more questions!  I wish I could say I know what a dad looks like, but all I know is the glimpses I’ve seen of good men.  I wish I could say I didn’t long for a late night beer with a father who has my best interest at heart, but I do.  At the same time, I absolutely don’t.  Ten years later, I’m still a man driven and guided by his own soul, intuition, or Holy Spirit.  Do I have a Godly father? Absolutely.  Do I feel like Paul with a thorn in his side that will never be removed?  YES.  I will always be fatherless.

My father didn’t die ten years ago.  He simply never was.

But, my confidence in God has been strengthened through success in love, life, and wonderful friends.  I’m not hopeless.  Far from it.  I’m a fatherless man, like many others, with a hole in his heart, being filled with love from a God who never ever dies.