Day of Reflection

It was one year ago, tomorrow that I last saw my biological father. I make the distinction because I have come to find completion from all the hurts, scars, and emptiness that his absence left vacant. I now have my Heavenly Father to guide me, hold me, reassure me, and discipline me when I need it. One year ago, tomorrow I aided a stranger. I facilitated a need for a man who knew my mother as I grew up. I was around him because he would show up at my paternal grandmother's home quite often. This stranger would not play with me. This all be it on the outside, friend of the family did not read me stories as you do to build rapport with children you just met or, have seen only a couple of times. This man would attempt to scold me and teach me. He did not look or act like the teachers I had known. One year ago, tomorrow I accompanied the family friend who by biology is my father to run some errands. He made it a point to announce at each destination I was his child. It was obvious these people knew him as a friend. They patted him on the back and offered congratulations to him for all I had accomplished. One year ago, tomorrow I was conflicted between basking in the praise and feeling that my Mother was somehow being discredited. She had been the hinges on the door that he swung on not to imply it swung open too often. She was the one who reared me in the fear of the LORD. She did not have much to give but, she gave her all. Still, One year ago, tomorrow I was in the presence of the man who helped to bring me into this world. I made an attempt between now and then to see him. As of late I have played with the idea of trying again and pause at how trying it is to see the broken man who is really relationally no more than a family friend. How do you greet the man in your dreams posted up in the corner because he was in the memory but, not actually apart of the experience? One year ago, tomorrow I last saw my biological father. From this point on I will do my best not to allow a year to go by but, I still don't know what relational box to put him into. ©InmypromiseWhite