Why is the sky blue?
Where do babies come from?
Why Daddy? What was that like for you? When did you…
These are questions I was never able to ask my father. Sometimes when I’m wrestling with my son or just talking to him, I imagine how that would have looked between my FATHER and me. I imagine my FATHER here with me now: sitting on my swing in my backyard drinking ice tea, talking about the OKC Thunder, or about a time when he was younger…
I never knew the man I would have called Dad. He didn’t teach me to shave or explain what it would be like to kiss a girl.
This emptiness has created a wound that has impacted a great deal of my life. I’ve learned to manage, heal, love, forget, label, tire (we’ll leave the rest for another time), and live with what I’ve come to know as my FATHER wound. This wound looks really different than it did 10, 15, 20, 25 (you get the idea) years ago, but I still know a FATHER wound.
I’ve come to a place in my life, with all its cliffs and valleys, where I’m able to cherish what I have. I fight our culture and typical way of living so my own son will know his FATHER – which may not always be the easiest thing in the world, but I know when he’s a man himself…he will cherish the memories he has collected along his journey.