When Father’s Day is Difficult
Three years ago I received a gift on Father’s Day that I didn’t ask for but desperately needed. My family of four had just finished our Father’s Day brunch. The kids were happy, my belly was bulging, and the hubby felt appreciated.
All was right with the world.
And as I sat in the passenger side of the car gazing out the window I had a revelation. “I’m not bitter anymore,” I thought to myself. There was no anger, or unforgiveness: nothing.
I was completely shocked.
After wrestling for a decade or more with my father wounds, the idea of contentment was downright unbelievable. Growing up in a divorced household, I spent little to no time with my father. There were no Chick-fil-A daddy daughter dates, late night chats, or boyfriend interrogations.
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