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Mar 2014
Recently i have been remembering my father. It is hard, but he is a man worth remembering. I do not know how everyone else saw him, but, despite his flaws, he was a great father and a great man. He was a man i was sure of the love of.. He showed me what that meant. I could see it in him. He had some out there thoughts, some strange views - maybe because he went through the 70s , maybe because that was just his head. But no matter that, he loved. The Lord, his wife, my wonderful mother, I , my brothers. I still find strands of his silver hair, even here, in toccoa, among my things. On his jacket. I am reminded of him by the things he left behind. and i remember the space he filled in my life. I never got the chance to right some of the things i regret- shrugging him off - arguing - avoiding him. But i know he forgives me. He is my father - that doesn't and has not changed. Through his passing i have learned that he truly was a great one, and i was sometimes shortsighted when he was still here. I have learned that where he fails - My father God will not. I have seen how he reflected God, and i have seen where he fell short in his humanity. He remains - not perfect - and i will not glorify him past what i believe he was - but an amazing picture of change and redemption through his life. He survived a lot that most men would have crumbled under. He did not run from things that many men would have shrank and hidden from. He made bad choices. But he did what he could to make them right. he lived fast sometimes, but he never forgot that slowing down is important to truly living as well. He may have screamed, yelled, or lost his temper, but at heart, he was a gentle man. He had the strength and the knowledge and the wit to cut people down, but he build them up, bridled his strength, was not a prideful man. He lost much, but he held on to what he still had. He was what a father should be. He was not a god, nor did he always lead with his values in a perfectly straight line. But he taught me to love my brothers. He taught me that blood was thicker. He taught me that God is always the one to go to when everything is wrecked - and you can always go to him even if it was you who wrecked those things. I wish we had seen more eye to eye. But i think, perhaps for our disagreements i found more of me. I think for his weakness, i was given strength. And i imagine i, through my stubbornness and temper similar to his own, challenged him to love daily. And he still did. I miss him.
Joseph the Dreamer
Written by
Joseph the Dreamer  clarkston ga
(clarkston ga)   
536
   Edward Alan
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