Jen's Web (Part 10) Disney

We are on vacation in Disney World this week... Here is a series of events and blogs for the week...

Here we are on vacation to Disney World when I learn that I still have much to learn. Coming down here I thought I had a pretty good grasp on my life and the healing that I just completed with my mom. But now I realize that much needs to be healed with my dad. You see, my dad was a very good man. He was a wonderful person deep inside. Somewhere along the way of life he was beaten down and began to believe that he was not worthy. I resonate with much of his energy because he is my dad. I am his little girl. The safety and peace I was supposed to get being ‘daddy’s girl’ did not occur in my life but I can relate to and understand why he became the good man that he was and the ferocious alcoholic beast at times. In his 40s raising two kids he was truly just a kid himself with unresolved issues that took over his being and compromised his ability to be a father figure in his children’s lives. I do not know much about my father’s side of the family. I never met my dad’s dad (grandpa). He was not alive when I was a child. I do know that I ‘heard’ stories about him. These stories were not told directly to me. They were the kind of stories you’re not supposed to hear as a child. When the adults are secretly whispering about past events a child can over hear plenty. From what I heard, he was a drinker. I am not sure of the cause of his death but he did not measure up to a very supportive father to his son (my dad).

My grandmother was still alive when I was younger and she was not exactly the most peaceful soul either. I can imagine they must have made a pretty scary team for a child. She was a large woman who wore housecoats all day long and would only venture outside once a day to get the mail out of the mailbox. There was a lot of fear instilled in her and I’m not sure where that all came from but I imagine that it was passed down from generation to generation. So, as you can imagine, my dad did not have much of a chance to grow up into a responsible, supportive, peaceful, and loving being. He knew fear. That is what he was used to. That energy was familiar to him, comfortable, and that is what he had become by the time I was 5 years old. Being a responsible father that made money, took care of a household, and raising two kids was too much for him. It was a grand task that had too many links to his past and too many opportunities to venture into old unexplored and unresolved issues of his own childhood. Thus he took out his unexpressed anger and stress on alcohol. It was his escape from the illusion of his reality. My dad believed that life had to be difficult because that is all he saw as a child. Alcohol was the only way he knew out. Again, this is all he knew because this is all he was taught. This is what my grandmother and grandfather had shown him. They enjoyed their drinks but then at the end of the day the depression set in; arguments and fist fights were the inevitable. My dad knew nothing else but to unconsciously repeat the same mistakes with his own family. Unfortunately, my mom could not recognize this pattern herself because she grew up with the yelling and fighting in her own house without the alcohol, just another form of abuse. My mom put up with the abuse and they went round and round in the endless circle of their lives. Until, sickness (cancer) became the only way out of her illusion and death the only way to end the pain and misfortune in her life. Thus, ending it all for all of us.

When my dad was not drinking he was actually a good man. He would do some of the things that fathers do…he would pick me up from school occasionally, tell me stories about his dreams, and love me in the best way he knew how. Love from him came in the form of a gentle look, a calm voice, and a ‘knowing’ that he would never physically hurt me. Ironically, I was the only one in the family my father would never hit. There would be nights when my dad would come home intoxicated at the end of the day, begin arguing with my mom, and suddenly it would turn into a raging fight. My brother, five years older than me, would come to my mom’s rescue only to be pummeled by my dad as well. I would even try to get in the mix, thinking I could save them all. I was the super hero with super powers that could stop the whole thing if I tried hard enough; and so I thought. I would climb on my dad’s back and pull on his arms and fists to stop him from hitting my mom or brother. I would even throw myself on top of the victim. Of course, he would either pick me up and throw me aside or push me away to get the ‘annoying kid’ out of his way. Occasionally he would stop when I intervened. Most of the time I was yelled at and told to go back to my room so that they could continue on their own and eventually stop or I would have to call 911 in order to get the police to come over and stop the craziness. So, I guess I really was a super hero with super powers, in a way. With super powers come feelings of super responsibility. It takes a high amount of sensitivity to be so tuned into whether or not I could stop a fight. I was so tuned in that I used to call my mom at work and warn her whenever my dad would come home drunk so that she would stay away and not come home. I knew my dad would not hurt me so it was safer if I took the responsibility to save everyone. It was just easier that way. (Few….that was a huge load off my back to express all of that)

Overall, my dad had the best intentions and just could not get it together. He did not believe in himself enough to believe that he could do it. That he could kick the alcohol habit and become the strong, peaceful, graceful being he is. Fear was his illusioned life. (As I sit here writing I can feel the presence of his fearful energy within me and I know that this energy is still within the cells of my being) My intent in writing down and sharing these experiences is to fully share and release these energies for good and forever. I am a part of my dad. If I can heal myself then a part of him and a part of all of us is healed. You see, I love this part of my dad that made all those mistakes. In him making all those mistakes he had much to teach me and my family. Living in fear does not work. It only creates more fear for us all; and what good does that do? It does not make for a joyous and loving life. It only takes us deeper into the bowels and trenches of life. If I can look at it as an opportunity to heal then I have much to gain. My dad believed in fear and anger and that was the energy of his life. He did not know how to get out of the trenches. Even with all of his attempts to do good he still fell back to what he was used to and what was familiar. This only teaches me to continue to go forward and trust that if I believe in the energies of love, peace, and grace that that is exactly what I will be given. Even in times where things do not seem to be going well, I do not need to go back to the familiar fear like my dad. I can instead sit with that fear that harbors and is left over from my child hood, nurture it and tell it that she is going to be ok and that those feelings are just fine. I can allow her to rest in knowing that those feelings will pass. I don’t need to cover them up with anything that I think will make it all feel better. I don’t need to avoid those feelings or run from my deepest fears. I can just be with them and know that in being with them they have no power over me and I never need to go back and stay in the place that I grew up or the events of my past. Ultimately, that is all it all is; just my past. What happens in my life today are new opportunities for growth, learning, and peace. They are opportunities to move forward and live a life of joy. In seeing the gifts of my dad and his struggles in life I know that I do not have to repeat those behaviors. There is another way. There is another door to open and walk through and I can create the kind of reality that fits me; love.

I thank my father for giving me the gift of knowledge and for teaching me how to navigate my life in peace. Through all the chaos there was still light. And that light can shine now that she knows who she was and is today. Thanks dad, I love you.

More to come...