I have not seen my father since I was 18 years old. I ran into him in a grocery store parking lot and never exited the passenger side of the car I was riding in to talk to him. With a ton of misunderstandings and assumptions that lead to bitterness rolling around inside me, it never occurred to me to give him my current information or ask for his. Years later I regret not having had a clearer mind to stir up a better conversation that led to the development of a relationship that never existed. When I was 21 years old, after a night of partying with college friends, I received a phone call at 7am asking if I was related to someone with the same last name as mine. Groggy and unable/unwilling to understand the stranger on the other end of the phone searching for living relatives of the late Anonymous Taylor, I hung up the phone. Later that morning when I fully awoke, I wondered if the man who I knew as my father, had actually passed. I didn't know how to feel. I remembered that every encounter I had with him was pleasant and always ended with him giving me money for the ice cream truck. Not certain if the call was even about my father, I pushed the thought away and continued living my life, hoping that one day I'd be able to learn for certain the whereabouts of my father. My grandfather ran into someone who worked with my father years later, and at 27 I learned he was alive and living with his wife in Moreno Valley. I lived a stones throw away in Perris, and wondered why I hadn't at some point ran into him. I searched for every Taylor in Moreno Valley, and had no luck. My grandfather asked the mutual friend for my father's information, but he refused to give it to him.
Sunday, July 10, 2011 while at church, my pastor sidetracked in the middle of his sermon to say that someone would restore a relationship that had been broken. The words he spoke hit me as though someone were throwing pillows at me. I wasn't sure why, and I had no clue who, but I received the word and kept listening to the rest of the sermon. The next day I received word from my grandfather that the mutual friend had finally given him my father's phone number. He had called and confirmed the information was accurate. I took two days to call. I was nervous and wasn't certain my father wanted to talk to me. When I made the call, we began talking as though we had never lost touch. He was happy to learn that he was a grandfather, and he made sure to give me every phone number to his sisters so that he would never lose me again. I visited him this past Saturday, and we sat talking for hours. He showed me old family photos of his side of the family, I showed him my wedding album and photos of my college years. He had told me he had been looking for me for years, but didn't know where to begin. When I called my Aunt Evelyn in South Carolina, she joyfully said, "welcome to the family." She hadn't seen me since I was a baby, and would be sending me photos as well.
My father was grateful that I was a forgiving person, and it was a great opportunity to not just talk the talk, but the walk the walk and show him the beauty of Christ operating in me. I can't imagine clouding the great conversations we've had over the past 7 days with bitterness and questions of why. We can't recoup the time past, but we can enjoy the time present and enjoy what time we do have with one another. Everything I am today is a direct result of all that I have encountered in my life, good/bad/indifference. I wouldn't change who I am today. While he may not have had the opportunity to contribute to who I am today, there is a long list of people who can lay claim to being there. He will have an opportunity to contribute to who I will be tomorrow.
Sunday, July 10, 2011 while at church, my pastor sidetracked in the middle of his sermon to say that someone would restore a relationship that had been broken. The words he spoke hit me as though someone were throwing pillows at me. I wasn't sure why, and I had no clue who, but I received the word and kept listening to the rest of the sermon. The next day I received word from my grandfather that the mutual friend had finally given him my father's phone number. He had called and confirmed the information was accurate. I took two days to call. I was nervous and wasn't certain my father wanted to talk to me. When I made the call, we began talking as though we had never lost touch. He was happy to learn that he was a grandfather, and he made sure to give me every phone number to his sisters so that he would never lose me again. I visited him this past Saturday, and we sat talking for hours. He showed me old family photos of his side of the family, I showed him my wedding album and photos of my college years. He had told me he had been looking for me for years, but didn't know where to begin. When I called my Aunt Evelyn in South Carolina, she joyfully said, "welcome to the family." She hadn't seen me since I was a baby, and would be sending me photos as well.
My father was grateful that I was a forgiving person, and it was a great opportunity to not just talk the talk, but the walk the walk and show him the beauty of Christ operating in me. I can't imagine clouding the great conversations we've had over the past 7 days with bitterness and questions of why. We can't recoup the time past, but we can enjoy the time present and enjoy what time we do have with one another. Everything I am today is a direct result of all that I have encountered in my life, good/bad/indifference. I wouldn't change who I am today. While he may not have had the opportunity to contribute to who I am today, there is a long list of people who can lay claim to being there. He will have an opportunity to contribute to who I will be tomorrow.
