Lord, heal my heart…
There were good memories… He was still my dad.
One of the many questions I get is “Why did it take you so long to speak up?“
The thing is, I grew up in it. It was my “normal” for so long, all throughout my early childhood, into my teens, and early adulthood. I thought that what I was experiencing was normal… until I would realize that it wasn’t. I know it’s hard to understand from an outside perspective, and I’ll try to explain it in a way that makes sense. This is where I would pray about why I feel the way I do.
My dad taught me many things growing up. He taught me to fish. I remember we would take these nice backwoods drives to the local state park. It was so cool, we would drive with the windows down, and I could hear all of nature. My dad showed us how to spot deer tracks, and we would go what he called “spotting” at night. Basically, driving at night down some back roads, with a bright spotlight, and “spot” deer. It was amazing, because it would be so dark, and he’d drive really slow with his lights off. I am a country girl at heart, and I love anything nature.
The state park was a nice place to go. We found a swimming hole, and usually if I can’t see the bottom, I will not go in. This was different because I think the cousins were with us a few times, and it was a blast. There was an old rope swing, I only used it once… I was scared, but it was a good memory.
My dad taught me how to garden. We always had a garden of some type. He did landscape for a bit, and he brought my sister and I along. We would sit on the hill of the property and watch him drive back and forth on the tractor. Sometimes, at home, he would take us for tractor rides. We would sit right on his lap while he drove, and it was innocent. It was just a father and his kid. If we didn’t ride with him, he allowed us to follow behind at a safe distance, so he would make these “tracker mazes” in the grass for us to follow.
He’d take us on walks. My grandparents lived near a boat club, and there was a nice, wooded area we would walk to, the property itself was huge! We would pick “Paw-Paws” (it’s a type of wild fruit, they are delicious, a cross between a pear and something else I think, I haven’t had any since that location). We’d bring back bundles of these fruits. My paternal grandfather had an ATV; we lived with them for a little bit. He, and my dad would take us on the four-wheeler, and he let us ride it down the long driveway, and we would race back… My cousins and I would play hide and seek, and we had a makeshift fort made out of the bushes, and it was our own little sanctuary. It was peaceful. Sometimes, just for a little bit, I wish I could get that carefree, no worries feeling back. just pure innocence and fun.
I remember it was around Halloween, and I’m in my preteens maybe. My dad, and my uncles set up this haunted hayride with the four-wheeler, and a wagon attached. All of us kids got into the wagon, and my dad was driving us around and through the “maze”. One of my uncles had a werewolf mask, and he dressed up as such. Scared the mess out of us, we were all screaming! We didn’t realize it was my uncle at the time because my dad was telling us a scary story while riding through the maze. The ATV decided to “stall out” and my uncle, dressed in werewolf getup, “attacked” my dad, and dragged him off into the woods, and we were left sitting there, screaming. One of us was about to drive everyone back to the house, when both my dad and uncle came out and “attacked” us. It was so fun. I’ve never had anything like that before or since.
My dad was fun, educational, he showed us things, prepared us for things. He was a bit paranoid when it came to economics, and another recession. He would stockpile dry food. He taught me to gut and cook fish. He taught me how to dehydrate food. I’ve always loved to cook, and even thought about going into the culinary arts field. My dad taught me a lot about cooking. I loved my dad’s cucumber salad, and it took me a few years to attempt to make it again because it brought back those good memories, he taught me how to make it. He taught me how to make tomato gravy, and even now I wish I could make it. Sometimes I think “if I could only call my dad”… and that is really hard to admit. technically I can call him, but not without him trying to make me feel guilty…
If it wasn’t for the abuse, manipulation, and other stuff, he truly would have been a great father. I think that’s why it hurt so much because, if I loved my father, how could I break up and divide the family because of what he did to me. That was the conflict. I loved my dad so much, he was the only constant in my life, I was proud to be his daughter. No matter what happened, he was protective, I knew no one would hurt us, my dad would beat them up… I adored my dad. He didn’t allow anyone to hurt us. He taught me gun safety and how to use a gun. He eventually bought me one for my birthday.
My dad was silly, sarcastic, loving. He was my favorite person, and just like any kid, I’d cuddle up to him, and he would just hold me. It was innocent. Was I wrong to want some type of normal comfort and guidance? It was like a switch when he abused us. Or it was “earned”, sometimes he’d be really nice as long as his needs are met.
I think that’s why this entire thing is difficult for me, because I still do love my dad. The hurt and heartbreak isn’t as painful as it used to be. I don’t know how to feel about him honestly, and sometimes I wonder if I should… It’s confusing. I don’t really FEEL anything. I believe that is part of the healing God has done since.
Some things are emotional for me because my dad is the type of person who could do anything and everything. If we had a normal, healthy relationship, he would be the one I would call to help me fix my car. A few weeks ago, I remember I got so emotional over our water heater. It was leaking, and my husband bought a new one. My dad would be the one that I would have called to ask for help. It’s things like that. It’s hard sometimes because I do miss my dad. He’s still alive. However, because of the choices he’s made, and refuses to admit to, he’s missing out on so much. I know he probably doesn’t even care other than to be nosey… I know family members “report” back to him and spy on me for him… I don’t care honestly; I have nothing to prove to him.
The thing is, even though he is alive, I no longer have my dad. He is not a constant in my life. He’s not dictating how I live. And it’s difficult because in some weird way, (and Lord, I pray for healing from this) I feel like I’m betraying my dad or replacing him. It’s difficult for me to get close to certain family members, because they ARE such wonderful fathers, ones I wish I grew up with. I had that taken from me though. My dad took me from my family.
And here is why it gets difficult and confusing. There were SO MANY good memories, we had fun, vacations, road trips, it was good to be a “normal” family for a bit… but then, just because we are on vacation visiting family in the South, doesn’t mean my father stops abusing me. Even then, something would be required. A passing “accidental grope” or while everyone is outside, and I’m supposed to be in the shower, he just so happens to peak in, and force oral on me. Oh Lord, I am so tired, and still so hurt.
I don’t know how much more I can continue, I’m emotional again. The pain is real. The heartbreak over something I can never get back is why it’s so emotional for me. I loved my dad. I also hated him for so long. For forcing me to do things, and then going through the trial, he tried to have control over everything, and when he was losing that control over me, he became mean, and vindictive and he had a hatred towards me I never seen or felt before… It was a shock to my emotional well-being…
I still wonder what went on in his head when he was like that. Why did he want me to perform sexual acts on and with him? Why did he do that to me? Did he ever love me as his daughter? Or was I just an object, something he could use… I didn’t see a future at all. He denied me the chance every time I got offered one… Why? I think that’s the biggest question, why did he ruin so many people’s lives? Why did he take what wasn’t his? Lord whatever this emotion is, please reveal it. I don’t want to cry anymore over something I can never have. Lord, Jesus heal my heart.
I don’t think I’m ready to confront him personally yet. I don’t want to visit him and have him think he still has control over me. All I know is I loved him, as any daughter would love a father. It hurts seeing fathers interact with their daughters, because I should have had that. The Father/Daughter dance at my wedding. His proud smile and loving embrace as I graduated college, instead of ripping up my acceptance letter because it was “my ticket out”. Him missing out on teaching his grandchildren how to fish, hunt, and all the other things I know he would have done. Instead, he’s a narcissist and he’s not at fault, and GOD why is this still so painful!!?? Why am I still angry at him? Why do I miss him? I know this is part of the process Lord, but it still hurts.
I need to end this for now, I really wasnt expecting to feel the heartbreak all over again… When will the tears stop Lord?
Oh, Jesus…