So this year Easter has a special memory for me because yesterday my dad joined us around the table. It is the first time that our family has enjoyed a 'celebration' diner together with him. We have not celebrated a single holiday together before this weekend, it was nice. Who am I kidding it was wonderful. Wonderful and wrapped the spirit of Easter in gold foil.
There was a time when our relationship was not great, there was a time when I had no use for my father, no desire to engage him, no time for what he brought or didn't bring to my life. There was a time period of eleven years where I didn't speak to my father. I did not send him cards or call him on the phone, I did not share my life with him and I did not care to know what was happening in his. I did not invite him to my wedding, I did not tell him he was going to be a grandfather. We did not call or send pictures or send the message when that day arrived. I was a terrible daughter. In fairness, the equivalent on his side of the relationship was also true, he was not winning father of the year.
For those eleven years I felt no remorse, then our first child was born. We waded through sleepless nights and first words, we learned to be parents and she learned to walk and all I could think when I looked at her was that she deserved everything I could give her, and that included the grandfather she wasn't aware she had. So one day I picked up the phone, and made the scariest phone call I have ever made in my entire life. I called my Dad.
We started slow and tentative, we talked about our sins and our regrets, we talked about our fears and our hopes. There was not a single catastrophic event that damaged our relationship but a series of little knocks and a whole lot of bloodline stubborn pride. That kind of damage takes a long time to repair, but we did it. We did it with laughter, conversation, honesty and respect.
Hard work and hope that brought us all the way around to this Easter. Our relationship has been healed for a great many years now, many more than it was broken but the meal and time shared this weekend causes refection.
E-man and I were having a discussion about the significance of Easter, the meaning, the reasons why we celebrate and I wish there was some way I could portray to him the warmth in my heart this weekend celebrating with my Dad. The lessons of Easter lie right there in my memories of that healing.
It is never too late to forgive, it is never to late to ask for forgiveness. It is never to late to love or be loved. It is never too late for second chances.
I will always be Grateful to my Almighty Father that he saw fit to forgive the world, to love us through our sins and through the life of his very own son, offer us a second chance. I will also be forever Grateful to my earthly father that he carries forgiveness in his heart, love that always moves forward and that he never rests on second chances.
Happy Easter, In the spirit of celebration... give, forget, love and love on.
Michelle
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| oh, and all that chocolate....a bonus to remind you that 'Life is Sweet' Indulge! |
