One night, at the awkward of thirteen, I came face to face with my Dad. The same man who rid himself of a little boy nine years earlier. Both of us were brought together by the death of a relative; as it seems that's how life's arrears must go. I hadn't seen or heard from him since he passed me up for a less responsible dream, and a new wife. He ambled down the steps from the sitting room, probably hopping that I would leave first...We connected eyes, both of us with the same nervous grins, but that man was not like me at all, never! He made sure to stop a short yard away. As I stood face to face with the very man...nerves of steel claimed their force of fear in me. I was not paralyzed by fear, "no" But with forgiveness, I reached out to shake his hand.
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Blessings...
Frances
powerful read; forgiveness is healing,
I recall the funeral of my grandfather who had asked for a week where his son was without answer. His son had left five children from two marriages with a woman who also left five children. My uncle's tough son was there, always trying to live up to his father's legend. But this time, the 13-year-old tough kid was crying in despair, having lost his father and his grandfather in the short span of two weeks. A private detective found the home of my uncle, who died in 1989, in 2005. The two never saw each other again.
Ron
Enjoyed reading...... Peace be with you
Mine was a great dad but a hardcore disciplinarian
William