Identity

Dad has been in the skilled nursing facility (a.k.a. "nursing home") for two weeks now.  He has settled in, and adapted his life to the routine of life there.  He doesn't move much, and he doesn't eat much.  We installed his HDTV, and hung some pictures around his bed, and have made it as nice as we can given the circumstances.  My sister visits almost every day, but I can only make it about once a week.  Hospice is meeting his needs and keeping him comfortable.  His old apartment has been cleaned out, with thanks to Uncle Cord.  His beautiful room at the assisted living facility, where he lived for 7 days, has been vacated.  Dad now seems resigned to die in his bed at the nursing home, whenever his time comes.

I've been thinking about what I might say at Dad's memorial.  As eldest son, I will be expected to say something, but I'm having trouble coming up with positive, uplifting comments.  Dad was insensitive, selfish, neglectful, and a bully.  Like most bullys, his aggressiveness was likely a response to an inner hurt, and a corresponding compromise in his self image.  This has evidenced itself in a kind of willful self-absorption, isolation and abruptness similar to children with Asperger syndrome.  He tended to lash out at people who got too close, and would argue over minor trivialities to avoid thinking about big, difficult issues.  He was not a pleasant man to grow up with.  He may have been a good man, but he was not a good father.

On the advice of my sponsor, I just finished reading "The Utter Relief of Holiness".  I am quite a fan of John Eldridge, and really appreciate his casual, direct, and personal style of writing.  Holiness, in this sense, is "a way to be good again", that desire in each of us to let go of the bad we see in ourselves, and actively seek the goodness that is God.  Eldridge points out that Holiness and Wholeness must go together... we can't see our sin (neglect of God) if we are trapped in our woundedness, and we can't recover from our wounds if we harbor resentment toward our healer.

Dad is both wounded and rebellious.  He is firm in his faith in Jesus and resurrection, but it is a child's faith.  He has not made it his identity, and used it to direct his life and relationships.  I've heard it said that an addict or abuse victim will cease to mature emotionally.  Dad's trauma happened when his father died in Normandy.  Dad was 16 at the time, and emotionally he is still a 16 year old.  He has friends and loyalties, but he has never learned to really live for anything greater than himself.  He has never learned to really care for another person.  And, he never will.

It dawned on me in the hospital that I really love the man.  I still complain about him, and I still suffer the wounds he inflicted on me, but I do love him.  He will never be a good father, or the father I always wanted, but he is the only father I have.  This is the challenge I'm facing.

I need to re-establish my own identity in God's love for me.    With that confidence, I hope not to see my Dad as a selfish bully or a pathetic love cripple, but as a man who did the best he could.  I hope for a path closer to God's goodness, and a readiness for his healing.

UPDATE: Dad entered into the arms of his Savior about 6 hours after this original post.