Robbed
Almost every single week, I sit here at my desk and contemplate what I am going to share with you all. Just about every single week, something happens that gives me inspiration. This week was no different. I probably have started and stopped a message for this week about four times, but in the final hour, a text changed the course of my message and I felt led to dabble on the subject. This week, I want to talk about being robbed. Not physically robbed, but more of an emotional robbery. This is one of those messages, where I have no choice but to be completely transparent in order for you to understand. So without further ado, let’s dive in!
My childhood was pretty good. In fact, it was amazing. Growing up in the 90’s, I believe, was the best anyway, but on top of that, I had a wonderful family, and a mother and father who loved me to pieces. I grew up as an only child. I was raised by my mother and my (step) father. I use the word “step” loosely because I hate even saying the word. That man has been my everything, my whole entire life. He raised me from birth, and was the only father that I knew. He loved me and took care of me freely, unapologetically, and responsibly. I NEVER felt like I was missing out on anything because he was more than just a daddy, he was a whole father!
Now, with all that being said. I did have a biological father who I got to know off and on. He wasn't a part of my life like he should have been or like I wanted him to be, but he did the best that he could. My mother actually played an amazing part in me bonding with him. She NEVER said anything bad about him in front of me. She wanted me to formulate my own opinion about him and not have it tainted by her own. (I honestly never knew how mama felt about him growing up because she never said) Anyway, to make a long story short, he was in and out of my life for years and during that time, I loved him fiercely. I knew that he loved me, but he had demons he was trying to fight, so I never held anything against him. I wanted him to know that there were never any hard feelings coming from me. It was all love on my end.
Fast-forward to 2013. He passed away. It wasn’t unexpected. He had lung cancer so we knew that it was coming. I had the pleasure of taking care of him all the way up until he took his last breath. I was there, sitting next to him. Comforting him the best that I could, along with my grandmother and aunt. Because of our off and on relationship, I was pretty strong emotionally. It wasn't, however, until he passed and I spent time with the family preparing for his funeral, that I realized I didn’t know him as well as I thought I did. Here comes the robbery I was speaking of earlier. When we would gather at the house, I would hear people say how well my dad could clean, or how he was the perfect babysitter. I can’t begin to tell you the wave of emotions hearing that sent me on. I was angry, jealous, sad, and confused all at the same time. Most of all, I felt robbed. I felt like he robbed me of getting to know him like everyone else did. I felt like he robbed my children, his only grandchildren, of getting to know him like everyone else's children did. I couldn't understand why I felt that way. It had never been an issue when he was living, so I couldn't understand why it would surface now that he was gone.
I am not going to lie, it took me some time to get over that. It took me some time to realize that no matter how long, or in this case, not so long of a time I had to get to know him, it was still sacred and I still cherished every bit of it. I can’t dwell on what I never knew, but I can rest in what I did know. I know that he loved me. I know that he regretted not being there for me like he should have. I know he loved my kids. I had to find peace in all of that. I couldn’t let feeling “robbed” infiltrate my thoughts because it would have put me in a bad head space and cause me to doubt myself. Even now, all these years later, I find myself thinking about it from time to time. It has gotten better over time, however. I am no longer angry about being “robbed.” I am just thankful that he didn’t leave this world wondering if I loved him or not. I know without a shadow of a doubt that he knew.
So my message for this week to you would be not to let the things you can not change or control make you feel like you have been “robbed”. God is the master orchestrator and he designed our lives just the way they are. If he allowed it to happen, then we can for sure get through it. I am sure feelings like these will come up, because we are human, and we feel. But, we don’t have to dwell in feelings and emotions that keep us from being happy.
