Dads, Your Boys Need to Hear YOU Say It

This morning a precious friend of mine shared part of his time with me. His heart was aching with the life hole left from his dad's passing.

He misses the friendship. He misses the talks. He misses the presence, but this morning, he wasn't missing what he lost. He was missing what he never received.

"I wonder if I made him proud.

I wonder if he was proud of me as a son."

I look at my friend, his generous heart, and his service to those in need, and I cannot fathom any man not being proud of such a son. I tell him that, but I know.

It doesn't matter if I tell him. He needed his dad to tell him.

So, dads, I'm telling you...

Your boys need to hear you say you are proud of them.  
Boys need their dad's approval, even grown boys.
Don't know how to tell them how you feel? Find a way.
You're the dad.
That is your job.

And no matter what he says or how old he is, your son needs you to be the dad...the dad who is proud of his son...and  tells him so.

When Both Parents are Gone

One of my very precious friends lost his dad over the weekend. He posted late last night that this was his first night withput a parent.

Tears fell as I read his words and understood the emotional and mental altering of the world he must be experiencing. In response, I wrote the short piece below.

For those who are adjusting to the world without the place you've always known was home...at least to your heart...my heart goes out to you, and I pray God grants you comfort and peace as you find your way through.

God be with you,
Jerri

It is a different place to be when both your parents are gone. I don't care how old you are. Having a parent is like having a pier you can always find your way back to and a place to tie up your life. It is a settling thing. In your mind you know there is something you are attached to and part of and there is a heart and mind security in that. When both parents are gone, there is a different sense of responsibility, a feeling like your mooring has been cut and you have to find a new way to anchor yourself. It isn't a bad place because it is part of how God set the world to work, but it is a hard place, nonetheless. And God in heaven it is a place with an ache like none other the heart has ever known.

Thankful Despite the Empty Places

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. This may be the first time I actually dread Thanksgiving. Honestly, I'd eat Fuddrucker's, watch football, and never get out of my pajamas. I would make it as UN-Thanksgiving-ish as possible because if it isn't Thanksgiving then it isn't a day when my folks should be here...but aren't.

And, yes, I've been told at some point I need to face their being gone, and I've heard the theory that I need to include them by setting places for them at the table, talking about memories, and all that. I have tried to respond with a smile, but sometimes I've been really honest and said, "Believe me, I know they are gone, and an empty chair at the table does nothing for me but make it hard to breathe because it only magnifies who ISN'T there."

This is the first year both of them are gone, and even though Dad passed on 7 1/2 years ago, Mom's passing makes it feel like they've both just gone, and once again I can smell Dad's pipe and Mom's perfume and feel Dad's stiff hug and Mom's tight one, and the hole is huge. And honestly, the idea of a family dinner makes my heart ache and my stomach churn.

However, my children want something that resembles "traditional" so they can feel like their whole world has not collapsed around them, so we are having a dinner and giving thanks...because despite the empty chairs, we have much for which to be thankful. In fact, it is the things for which I give thanks that make the empty chairs so hard.

For instance, I give thanks for:
1. My mom's amazing food. She was a great cook. I loved her fried chicken and her pea salad, and her salmon patties are still one of my favorite comfort foods.
2. The matching outfits she made at Easter. My poor dad and brother wearing the pink shirts with tiny roses buds that matched the dresses Mom and I wore. Dad never griped. I admire him for that. :-)
3. Mom's hugs. If you ever had one, you know.
4. Dad taking me hunting with him. One of my favorite memories.
5. Dad taking us to church on Sundays.
6. Dad putting up a basketball goal where I could practice.
7. Hot coffee on cool morings with Dad on the steps, just talking.
8. Mom choosing to camp with us.
9. The smell of a good pipe tobacco.
10. Long talks about the Bible.
11. A sewing machine of my own.
12. 55 YARDS of ruffles on my wedding gown.
13. Four bridesmaids dresses...even when one of the bridesmaids was "difficult"
14. Some of the wildest games of 42 I've ever played
15. Fishing
16. Riding in the back of a pickup
17. Trips to pick me up at school after UIL or sports...especially when money was tight
18. For an 15 extra years...
19. For a merciful 2 months...
20. For parents that lived in a way that leave us with laughter and tears...wishing for one more cup of coffee...one more game of 42...the sound of their laughter...the feel of their hugs...gratitude for what they did right...and the desire to do better than they did...

Dear God, for the time that I had...for the memories you've allowed...thank you.