Today marks the 15th anniversary of my father’s death. (Ironically, it’s my mother’s 80th birthday). My father was a complex man; brilliant, terrifying, sentimental, cruel, angry, playful and funny. Plagued by guilt over the death of my infant sister and following the stern and stoic example of fatherhood which surrounded him, he hid his pain by turning to alcohol. In time it overtook him and he died too young.
Each year at this time I think of my father. Throughout his life, he lacked friends. You see despite his amazing intelligence he never learned how to speak kindly. He was as hard on other people as he was on himself. For a long time, I carried my father’s legacy of self-hatred. I expected great things from myself and I would beat myself up if the measuring stick fell short. And, I was short with other people as well.
About two years ago, I made a decision to be my own best friend. It was not a matter of change; it was simply learning to accept what I most hated in myself. When I witness my own character defects I just leaned to say; ok, I’m human too. God, remove this if you can and will, but if not, help me accept myself. It’s a much easier way to live.
There was one thing that was a constant with my father. He knew I was afraid of the dark. When I was very young, my father began turning on the hallway light each night. It was left on until morning. No matter how tired, angry or upset my father was, I remembered he would walk to the far end of the hall and turn on the light, even when I no longer needed it.
In memory of my father today I’m asking you for a few favors:
1. Be kind to yourself.
2. Be kind to others.
3. Keep an eye out for who’s lighting your hallway, no matter what words they use.