My Father's Garden

It was a real test for my dad and mom when I decided to meet my birth father, but all parents must realize that the day will come when children of broken homes want to meet their birth parents if they are still living. In the event that they are not, the questions will come. It is a natural tendency and one that must be fulfilled or there is an unhealed wound that can never completely mend until the meeting takes place . . . until the questions are answered and resolve is attained in the mind of the child. Such was my time.

One of the few times I would think of him when growing up was when I would play my aunt’s player piano listening to the song "Daddy’s Little Girl." I would sit at the piano and play it over and over again thinking of him and visualizing that photograph of my sister and me sitting on his lap as little girls. But since the day of my wedding in 1976, the first time I had seen him in sixteen years, he was no longer an issue in my life. Anger had taken up its abode in my heart after he wanted me to postpone my honeymoon to spend some time with him. I didn’t really know that I was angry at the time. I only knew I didn’t think about him any more and had pushed him way down in the bottom of my heart. Daddy and I had gotten really close by that time in my life so Howard was out of site . . . out of mind.

But then, after I became a Christian, God began to deal with that part of my life. And I knew I would have to deal with it if I was going to be all that God intended. I wanted His love in me for all mankind . . . and that included anyone in my past that caused a breach in our relationship. I would push it back for a while because of my love for my daddy, but when I had that horrible dream about Howard, I knew I had to go meet him once and for all. God would have to take care of mom and dad and help them to grow in this situation.

I had found the phone number of one of his sisters in Michigan and called her. She told me where he was and gave me his phone number. I was nervous, but God gave me peace. After all, I had never really talked with him in thirty years except for the "hellos" at my wedding in 1976, thirteen years earlier. After talking with him it was a piece of cake. I told him I wanted to come out and visit him, asked for directions, set the date, and that was that. He was very receptive to my call and my desire to come and visit him.

So I prayed and went out to my parent’s house to tell them I had found Howard and had to go to Houston to meet him. It was the most difficult thing I had ever had to do. I told them of the dream I had had and that I believed God wanted me to reconcile with Howard. When I was telling them, I experienced the most intense gut wrenching tears coming out of me much like convulsions. All that pain was still there and had been for all those years, but it had been buried and when I began to speak of meeting him and reconciling, it came out.

I tried to assure them both that it had nothing to do with them and that my love was solid where they were concerned. It was just something I had to do. Mom and dad were sitting there quietly listening and not saying anything. Mom said she understood. Daddy didn’t speak a word. Mom asked, "When are you going?" in a subdued tone with apprehension regarding my answer: "As soon as I can, probably this week-end." And that was about the extent of it. So when I was finished talking I got up to leave and went over to give them a hug. Mom responded with a hug and a few tears in her eyes.

When I went to hug daddy he pushed out his hand to shake mine and only said, "Good luck," then turned to walk away. He had never refused to give me a hug until that day. He wouldn’t look at me. My heart was crushed all over again, but I had to do what I believed God was ordaining and trusted Him to take care of my parents and to help them work through their issues.

By the time I got back to my house the phone was ringing. It was daddy and he had called to apologize. He said he really didn’t understand but he loved me and prayed everything would work out all right. God dealt with him quickly. I knew our love was too strong to let that come between us . . . and I was right.

I had everything packed and stored because I didn’t really know how long I would be there. I had prepared for an indefinite trip because I wanted total freedom to do as I felt I should even if that meant moving to Houston.