Melody and Warmth

"There was our father, the heart we knew held all of us. Held us heavily and desperately, the doors of his heart opening and closing with the rapidity of stops on an instrument, the quiet felt closures, the ghostly fingering, practice and practice and then, incredibly, sound and melody and warmth. "
— Alice Sebold (The Lovely Bones)


I saw the movie “Lovely Bones” last night. I read the book not once but twice over the past few years, the movie and the book have moved me. I am such a literate person. Since that Junior High honors English class where my recent university grad English teacher, who happened to be a “hippy” (It was the early 70’s), got us through Super Tramp “Crime of the Century” and Pink Floyd – “The Wall” by having us really search our souls to know what was being said and write about it. Since then, I have always looked deeper than the surface of the words written or spoken.

The first time I read “The Lovely Bones” I was also reading; “Reviving Ophelia: Saving the Selves of Adolescent Girls” by Mary Pipher. These two books changed the course of healing for me. I realized two things through this. One, which although my father wasn’t perfect he was genuine in his love and concern for me and that I didn’t need to wait any longer for a strong showing of his love, he gave it everyday in his own unique way and for this I was eternally grateful. Second; I also knew, that as much as I wanted my daughters to know just how immensely they were loved, I couldn’t give them one of the most important unconditional loves that is vital in each of their lives to be emotional healthy.

Throughout the movie and book Suzy’s father seems distracted and lost, almost as if, he felt responsible for her disappearance. The book relates with much more depth Suzy and her father’s bond. She reaches him every now and then and guides him to healing from her death. The irony however, is that she too is caught in the in-between because of her great love for him and her fear of her desire that he return to normalcy and to the caring of her brother and sister that were still there – in the living world. This movie and the book have moved me – I love when that happens.

Fathers play such a significant role in the mental maturity of a girl. So many barriers and obstacles are in place that makes this path not an easy one to maneuver through. Some dad’s just inherently get it while others come to it slowly. In the end though, this single relationship can make or break the self esteem of a girl/woman. I have witnessed this personally in so many ways.

Love is, to matter, an exercise in conditional release. Most fathers want to protect their daughters, they want safety and comfort for them and the methods and means by which they do this can vary greatly. Intent plays a role here, great fathers make mistakes and forgiveness is necessary sometimes. It’s a “walk in their shoes” ideology where until you really know, you can’t really understand the why’s of a person’s behavior.

Here’s my point.

I love my girls – more than anyone can ever know. Everyday I am proud of them because their shoes are mighty hard to walk in. They have overcome more than they will ever admit to and even more than they would ever want you to know and because they have, I love them even more.

I wish they could completely recognize their beauty both inside and out. I wish that they didn’t have to feel like failures sometimes because they could never measure up to the impossible measures placed on them by abuse and tyranny and most of all, I wish I could wrap their hearts with understanding that they have great value in this universe, that they truly are daughters of God.

Now, let me tell you want I know they are!

SURVIVORS!

The fact that they have come as far as they have, that their souls are as strong as they are, that they speak with strength and assurity in spite of it all is a testament to just how amazing of women they are becoming. I am proud every day of their journeys. They have brought great joy in my journey of motherhood as well. They (their brother included) have always been the greatest gifts God granted me. Their grandma JOY would be so proud!

Here’s my Plea!

Dads, love your daughters; care about them, know them, cry with them, give them boundaries and teach them by loving their mothers. By respecting both your daughter and the woman that bore her, you give them strength to endure a cruel and relentlessly unforgiving world. Above all else, when it’s the hardest thing to do, take the conditions away and show them they matter even when they don’t do exactly what you want them to. Hug them when you’re so angry at their disobedience but you can already see the price they have paid for it. And when they're so broken and feel like they are unlovable let them know they are the love that completes you and makes your world a better place; that being there Father is the honor God granted you.

If you could really know just how important the relationship you have with your daughter will help her in every other relationship she has you would sacrifice anything to make it right. How will she ever know God loves her if she doesn’t know you do?

Oh, and by the way – there’s no age limit on this love, you signed up for her lifetime.

Now a short story – I hope you don’t mind.

In my earnest to clean up my Facebook I deleted all my albums in favor of one which would be a snap shot my life. As I was going through the pictures I made a conscious choice to include one of my Father sitting at a table with the look, the one that lets you know the weight of the world is on his shoulders and that he is in deep thought. I posted the album with captions and throughout the day people added comments. This picture garnered the first comment – “I love this man” by my sister, then one of M’s friends added something in the same vein, I third’d the motion a bit later in the day and then my Dad’s sister posted her love for him too. How could any man ever lose with the love of a sister and his daughters? I cried. Mom made us promise to care for him after she left and I doubt she could know just what an honor it is, aggravating sometimes, but an honor none the less.

Here’s, as they say, “the rest of the story”.

In my life, my Father had told me he loved me once. The day my mother died. There was a time when I wondered if he even did love me but as maturity has set in I guess I have always known that he does, he just shows it in the only way he knows how, by saying nothing at all. There’s more to this but its just best left for posterity to hear and understand. Dad has some great reasons for the quiet that he is, I understand that now. Please just know I have always felt his love I just needed to recognize what it was I was feeling.

Then, out of the blue, I get an email from my poppa. The subject title; Meaning of “I Love You”. This arrived the day after the posts on Dad’s picture went up; my sister got the email too. Not a word from Dad personally just a forwarded email of all the different ways people, kids especially, say I love you.

Now, my Dad has told me he loves me twice.