In two days it will be three years since you passed away. I feel very sad today, sad to the point of deep sorrow and tears, that you left me without saying good-bye. What did I do that was so hurtful? Why did you abandon me in your greatest time of need? Why didn't you let me serve you by helping with your daily care? I don't understand.
I've been having dreams about you. Most recently, last night. We were in the car and you were driving. I was the age I am today, 43 years old. We drove past Great America and you commented on the "ride" that takes you way way up. I told you it's awesome to see all the way to Indiana, Wisconsin and Iowa. I told you it's a far ride up but at one point you lose your fear of heights. I know that was a concern for you. You commented, "I'd like to be able to see that far." As I typed those words, I am reminded you died blind.
Are you able to see me? See your family? Watch all the things God is bringing to fruition in our lives? Can you hear us? Can you hear the obedience and sorrow when Tina, Tracy and I seek the comfort of God? Where are you? Are you fully healed, physically and emotionally? I don't know where you are.
Right now, you are appearing in my dreams. One with sexual abuse; the other one without. One where I can feel your mustache on my face; the other where I can see you laughing and sharing a good time with Tina and I. You are both people. I miss your laughter, my coming over to your house and you handing me a Mug root beer just like you'd hand someone a cold beer. We'd sit down at the kitchen table where you asked how things are going in my life. All of this healed our relationship, before your colon cancer, before your blindness, before you denied each of your daughters a chance to say goodbye. What were you so afraid of? I wonder.
Tina, Tracy and I have worked our separate 12 step programs, brought our concerns to the foot of the cross, talked it out with Mom and were prepared to say goodbye. Unfortunately, you (or Joan) decided it wasn't necessary that we said goodbye. I remember Dale coming home after picking up the Christmas gifts for your grandchildren. He said your house smelled like air freshener, trying to disguise the smell of bowel. When he looked at you he could see the progression of cancer. He told me (and Tina) if we had anything left to say to you, make sure we did it quickly. He believed (from the experience he had with his dad dying from cancer) that we had three months or less to make our peace.
I was at peace not to see you. But that didn't mean I wanted you to die not knowing how much I loved you and forgave you for the sins committed against me. That Jesus broke the power of Satan over my grief where my childhood and innocence were stolen from me, by you and other adults. I'd forgiven you for these abuses and so many other abuses you dealt me.
Then you died. I was at work when my phone rang. It was Tracy. She told me Dale had called her regarding your death. She was on her way to your house. When she arrived the Coroner was there and they were removing your body. Sorrow and tears immediately broke through and two of my dearest friends held me as I cried. Annie called Carol. Carol had a cancellation. Donald and Annie drove me to Wheaton to talk and cry with her. Before we drove away from Bright Hope, Tracy called back to let me know we were being given one hour the next morning to say our goodbyes. Then you were going to be cremated. It was less than 24 hours after we were notified about your passing.
Is that the way you wanted it? Or is that how Joan was punishing us? Did you really want my name not mentioned in the obituary? Or was that Joan making sure I felt even more remorse, suggesting you'd denied my existence? I'll never know, will I? God has blessed me with peace regarding that omission. I am His daughter, my name is written in His Book of Life and I trust He will not blot me out of existence denying He ever knew me. You see, He created me in Mom's womb. Jesus affirms my birth on this sin-filled planet. You and Joan do not have the power to deny my existence. God Almighty knows my name and I hope He knew your name, too.
I don't like you and yet I miss you. I don't want you back but I do love you. I don't think about you everyday but I wish you peace. That's all I can do. You chose your eternal destination before the end of your life and I hope you chose the way that leads to an eternal life with God through His Son, Jesus Christ.
I won't know what happened to you until I reach His Glorious Kingdom. Truth be told, I doubt I'll be thinking of you or looking for you on that day. Instead, I will praise my Abba who never abused me, reassures me of His unconditional love and desires a closer relationship. Not because He needs me (as you did) but because He knows how much I need Him.
Your earthly daughter,
Amy Kathleen
