I have been doing some reflecting lately. Forced reflection actually. There are times when I am exposed to a circumstance that triggers a memory or a path of thought that I’m certain wouldn’t have happened otherwise.
When these crop up with any type of consistency or rhythm, I pay extra attention to them. Heavy buildup to discuss something, I know.
So what am I actually talking about? I’m talking about the relationship a father has with his children. A relationship that is no doubt influenced by the relationship the father had with their father and so on…
This started with a conversation I had with a father struggling with his son. His son was missing. His son was strung out on drugs. His son had no money, no phone, no fixed address….nothing. This father spent a lot of time telling me about how much he loved his son but how helpless he felt. There was a moment in the conversation when the father actually accepted that his love on its own was not enough to help his son. This is the reason we ended up talking, but I don’t think he fully realized it prior to us starting the conversation.
Nobody talks about that before you have a child. I know it wasn’t discussed with me. If it was, I don’t remember it. If I did remember it, I know with great certainty that I wouldn’t fully understand the magnitude of loving a child not being enough to help them in certain situations.
One of my biggest problems as a parent (One being an important word) is that when the shit hits the fan with my children, I try to fix it. I always try to fix it. One way or the other I want to exhaust all options to protect my children. Often to my own mental breakdown, occasionally until I’m physically sick. I want my kids to know that Love is the answer. I will go to the grave believing that, but I want them to see the Power in it. I want them to know that more than anything, my life’s desires were being reliant on God for everything and sowing seeds of love along the way. I want them to know that there is no love greater than the love I have for them and my family.
But what happens when they’re in some real life shit that needs some real life solutions? What happens when they go through a bad break up? Is my love for them going to make it better? What happens when they are struggling financially? Is my love going to fix that? What happens if God forbid they make wrong decisions about drugs and alcohol like I did? Will the fact that I love them with my whole heart be enough to pull them out of the darkest place that they’ve ever been in?
I don’t believe it will.
I also don’t believe I won’t try.
This thought process had me reflect on what my actions must’ve done to the hope my parents had for me. Did my actions tarnish the love, or the ability to love that my parent’s had for me? The answer is no, but I’m sure my actions hurt them.
Let’s talk about my father for a minute. I don’t believe for a second that there was ever a lack of love, there was a lack of know-how as it relates to handling someone in the throws of heroin addiction. Not his fault, just the way it is. So in an effort to be brief, let’s just say that I am sure that my father had many many many moments of struggle watching me make terrible decision after terrible decision. He wanted for me what I want for my kids. He wanted me to be happy and full of love. He wanted to see me successful. He wanted to shield me from pain.
Unfortunately his love wasn’t enough to do that. It didn’t change me.
Yesterday he text messaged me to praise me for my accomplishments and to tell me how happy he was of the man I have grown to be. That didn’t erase the pain I caused him, but what it did do is solidify the idea that consistent love might be the only reason we have a relationship today and I am forever grateful for that. Same story with my mom. They both never stopped loving me and I feel like it paid off heavy.
If you are a parent, be a parent. Be there for your children. Be an example that love is the answer…even when it’s not.