The Divorced Son: Part Four | Reflections
I was
spoiled. Not like a little bit
either. I know it was my dad that kept
me from being punished. He was a good guy and cared a lot. But, it spoiled
me. I remember so well from just a few
events.
The
first event was actually two events.
They have to do with each other.
I would shout that I was running away to my parents. My father would be there and I would run out
the door and hide behind a tree. He
would come running out and find me and bring me back. My mom, when she was there, would get a bag,
pack it, and set me out on the porch. I
wouldn’t run away, because she would pack the ugliest bag available. Well, and of course, I never really wanted to
leave, I just wanted someone to care enough to catch me.
My
mother spanked me with the wooden spoon, once my dad was out of the picture. I
realized soon after how spoiled I had been.
But, when I think about it, that spoon caused some fear too. I don’t know if I could have been reasoned
with through talk instead. I don’t know
what would have been better, I only know that I made it through that, and I am
who I am now. Whether that is good or
bad would probably be told differently by the variety of people who have known
me.
I want
everyone to like me. No, I really want
everyone to love me. I think I have
attachment issues that can never really be resolved. I love kids.
I bond with them all the time. It
makes me cry when I lose someone close to me.
Not lose like in death, but just like when they move, or I do. Can I be whole? Will I always seek out Father Figures?
I think
the answer is ‘no’ to both. I have
figured out that people will always fail you.
It’s what God has always been trying to tell us. You can only really be complete with
Him! You can seek out people to fill
that place, but you will fail to fill that hole inside. Only He can redeem. I know it from the path I took, and the
things I have seen and felt.
I was
spoiled, but I lost everything that a kid desires, in my childhood. I lost my parents. I lost my security. I lost my Way. I let fear and anger rule me. And it did!
I would throw tantrums in school.
A kid would say something, and I would decide it was good enough to
become a raging Hulk. I would go to the
cabinets and bang on the tops with my fists and I would kick the doors as hard
as I could. No one really helped me
through this. I saw a school
psychologist once and I just showed her what she would want to see, after the
silly breathing techniques and coloring a picture of a flower. I was smart, and I knew how to fool people.
My
sixth-grade teacher saved me, not from anger, but from loss of control. I let myself get sparked at the cafeteria,
which happened to be the small gym we used.
I was walking for the door, and it was an open campus, so if I made it
outside, who knows if they would find me.
My teacher was there and grabbed me.
He lifted me in the air, and I kept trying to walk. I found myself up against the wall behind the
stage area, with his worried face in mine.
He asked me, “What’s wrong?” In
that moment I saw what I looked like to him.
I was uncontrollable. I promised
myself on the walk home after school that I would never react that way
again. He helped me in one moment. A few seconds. I will always be thankful. It fixed that problem before I got into
Middle School, where they would have really picked on me.
My
anger remains a problem. It is hidden
deep within, but I know it is there. I
can be so mean sometimes. You see, I
have this ability to find the one thing that will hurt you most emotionally, a
truth, or a fear. And I push that
button. I don’t really want to do that
anymore. I want to be more like my Grandmother. I’ll talk about her next time.
More in this Series:
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Sample Related Posts:
Is it possible to let go of this anger?
Do my actions affect God?
How did you choose God over anger?
How can you honor your gorgeous grandma?
How can I be an even better father figure?
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