Wednesday, May 16, 2012
My Dad, My Friend
“So are you really considering moving or are these trips just an excuse to get us to watch the kids while you go off on rendezvous together?” my dad asked me.
“Dad, this is serious,” I answered. “I think we are really going to do it.”
“But what about the plan?” he argued.
The Plan. Oh, the plan.
“Dad, shall I remind you of the plan?" I took a deep breath and then began, "Five years ago you said, ‘Let’s all move in five years together.’ And then a year went by and you said, ‘Let’s all move in five years.’ And then 3 years went by and you said, ‘Let’s all move in five years.’ And then 5 years went by.... you get the picture. Dad, my son is now five years old. If we are going to move, the time is now, before our children become so settled here.”
“Janna, I’m not ready,” he said. I could hear a tone of concern in his voice.
“But Dad,” I hesitated before continuing, “What if we are? What if moving is what would be best for our family?”
The very idea of it was like an arrow headed straight for his heart.
“To be away from family, from us, from me? Janna, how can that be best for your family?” he said; it hurt him to hear otherwise.
And I couldn’t help but wonder if he was right. What is the best for my family? I had no clue, and input from anyone confused me. Everyone has their biases, opinions, their reasons. All I knew for certain was uncertainty. For this moment and many moments to come, I would be learning how to find peace under a blanket of uncertainty. Oh, so very hard to do. But as is so often true with God, He would provide direction when it was time. There would be many twist and turns along the way, eventually revealing what would be the best for my family. But it would all be revealed in His time. Not mine. As is always so.
But what to do with the people who are hurt by the decisions we make? Would this cripple my decision making? Absolutely, as it had always been so in the past. I mean, who wants to disappoint another human being? I’m sure most of us avoid certain decisions based on how they would affect others. Talk about paralysis in decision making. Both my husband and I suffered from it. Both peacemakers. Both people pleasers. Never ruffle any feathers.
Baby steps, I reminded myself. Don’t imagine yourself saying goodbye. Don’t visualize him crying while waving goodbye to us on the corner. But I didn’t have to envision it; it was painted on his face. Devastation.
A heavy ache lay deep within the pit of my soul.
Later that night, I lay in bed talking with my husband, “Dan,” I said, “I can’t bare to disappoint him. It hurts too much to even think about it.” I rolled over, holding my hand to my heart and moaning, “I can’t stand to see him in pain over this. He’s one of the most precious things in my life.”
My father. He had not just been my caretaker, my provider, my dad...
My father had very well become one of my closest friends.
One of my best.