Happy Father's Day

 Happy Father's Day to all the dad's out there.  

My dad, my grandma, Shelbie and me...a long time ago!

I'm blessed and lucky to have a dad to celebrate today.   I've been thinking about the ways my life has been blessed this week because of my dad.  I think dads are the fun guys.  The one to push the envelope, be a little more daring, and basically the cruise director for life.  Of course, all of this in addition to providing a home and watching over family.  

Father's day always strikes me with a little more tenderness because I know first hand how important a dad is.  I see it every day in the life around me. Some moments in my life, I have had to be both a father and a mother and that is hard.  No one can take the place of a father. 

This week, a thought came to my mind, over and over.  In fact, one night this week, I woke up in the night thinking about it.  

Nearly 20 years ago, I was going through some challenges mentally.  I was seriously depressed, exhausted, anxious and suicidal.  As if that wasn't enough, my marriage was crumbling before my eyes.  I couldn't imagine how to continue living my life when I was told time and again, I would likely outlive my children, by decades!   

During this period of my life, I ended up in a mental hospital.  I can say without a doubt, it was the worst time of my life.  I was sent against my will and the whole situation was scary and dark.  I remember only a few things from that nearly month long visit.  I remember the intake nurse asking me a series of questions that seemed really stupid and obvious.   One of them was, 'Are you grieving the loss of a loved one.'  I replied, 'Yes.  I have lost me.'  The nurse with her calloused, distant heart began to cry.   We both sat there weeping.  I truly felt hopeless and shame that buried me in a tsunami of depression.  

When you are in a mental hospital, you are very isolated.  I had no friends I could call up even if I wanted to.  I couldn't check in with my kids.  So alone.  

At some point in my stay, to my surprise, my dad showed up at the hospital.  I remember being so embarrassed that I would have to face him when all my life I had tried so hard to make him proud and happy of me.   This was not my proudest moment.  I don't even remember what we talked about the few minutes he could stay, but I remember how I felt.  I felt loved.  I felt like somehow, without having to explain it all, he understood.  That one sacrifice to drive nearly whole day just to spend a few minutes to let me know I still had value.  I'm not sure I ever really thanked him for that.  

So, it's a good day to celebrate my dad.