This four year old kid stood up to his dad and stood up for his mom.

Dad was standing over mom and yelling at her; she was sitting on the couch crying. No way in hell would she let someone treat her like that now, but at that moment she was a broken mess. There was no fight in her- just weariness. I remember standing in between him and her, pointing my finger at him, and repeatedly telling him to stop.

Soon after she would finally put her foot down and break the painful cycle she endured for far too long. I’d like to think I gave her the courage and strength to do so, but in reality it had nothing to do with me. She has always been incredibly strong.

I used to be painfully embarrassed of my dad- embarrassed by his life and his death. I definitely sugarcoated some things whenever I spoke of him. If I was describing him now, it would probably be accurate to use words like irresponsible, troubled, selfish, and mentally and emotionally unwell. Instead I just described him as being funny and a practical jokester (which was also true.)

Instead of telling the truth about him taking his life, I would usually just say “heart attack.” (That’s what I was told when I was 5.) It felt a lot better to repeat that lie into my late teen years than to utter the word, “suicide.” All these years later, it doesn’t get any easier to tell others what he did.

He was not a bad man. He was a good brother. He was a good son. But I think he was a bad husband and a poor father. My dad partied while my mom did her best at raising and providing for us. He was reckless with his body. He was naive and irresponsible with his business. He contracted AIDS and soon after decided to take his own life by hanging himself in his detached garage. He abandoned us.

What did my dad leave me? A social security benefit that maybe covered part of the tuition for my private school education. A Pound Puppy stuffed animal for my 5th birthday.

The Pound Puppy was accidentally abandoned less than 2 years later at a Dairy Queen somewhere between Jax and Miami. The social security benefit expired soon after I finished high school. However, he left me much more than those two items- and I don’t think any of the other things are good. I’ve fought my darndest to try not to pass those same things on to my kids.

I’m still standing up to my dad. I’ve forgiven him (and I’m still forgiving him.) I love him. I understand the reason for some of his hurt and chaos. But I’m still pointing my finger at him and trying to stop him from hurting those I love.

Every family dinner, soccer game, cheer event, track meet, road trip, camping trip, fishing trip, scalloping trip…

Every hurting person I reach out to, every intentional text, prayer, compliment, lunch/coffee meet up, word of encouragement…

Every hug, every hand hold, every time I hold my kids…

Every time I reach out for help, admit my weaknesses and flaws…

Every moment is me standing up to the man who has hurt and wounded me more than anyone else on this planet.