Today is the last day of October. October was the birth month of my father, Conroy Chiddick, who passed away two years ago. This morning, I paused a little longer than usual remembering him, and I decided to dedicate this month’s post to him, in honor of his memory.
A father’s love ….
As I observe the interactions between children and parents, most of the time it seems as if the mothers’ expression of their love to and for their children is more easily discernible than that of the fathers’. The fathers’ expression of love is usually evident in their determination to provide clothing, food, shelter, protection, etc for those entrusted to their care.
For me, this was the case in my home. My father was a provider. Growing up, I cannot recall a time when I was “in need” and, I know this was primarily because of the hard work of my father. He went out and labored, brought the money home, and gave it to Mummy to meet our needs.
I recall my father, though known as a quiet, serious man during my childhood years, never hid his love for me. He showed his love for me by always seeking me out and finding ways to spend time with me.
One of the activities we shared together, even into my adulthood, was our love for martial arts movies. I can recall him asking in his quiet, humorous way if I wanted to watch a movie. We would select one of the “old ones” and then sit to watch. He would sit their quietly watching while I did a running commentary, commenting on the techniques, the characters, and anything that got my interest. You could hear me shouting, “Whoa! Daddy did you see that move?” He would smile or chuckle and go back to enjoying the movie. At the end, he would say, “That was a good one!” signaling that our time together was over; another time of reinforcement of our love for each other and joy being in each other’s presence.
I remember on the night when I received the phone call to tell me that he had transitioned from this life to the next, I felt numb. In an effort to sort through my feelings, I took out my journal and wrote: My father was the first man who ever loved me. His love was not because of anything I had done or anything that I had achieved. From the start, he loved me because I was his.
With tears in my eyes, I remembered that even when I disappointed him and broke his heart severely because of a choice I made in my late teen years, it didn’t change his love for me. Although, in his hurt and pain, he turned away for a while, that love drew his heart back to mine. I remembered how he wept at my wedding because he felt like he was losing me to another, not realizing that no one can take the place of a father’s love.
As I reminisced about my father’s love for me, I realized that his love for me was similar to that of our Heavenly Father.
– Our Heavenly Father is the One whom we can trust to provide, clothe, shelter, and protect us; the One who meets our every need.
– Our Heavenly Father always seeks us out, enjoying just spending time with us. He is pleased just to have us near, sitting with him, finding joy in His presence.
– Our Heavenly Father was the first to ever love us, not because of anything that we had done or anything we had achieved, but just because we are His.
Thank you Daddy for introducing me to a father’s love; for setting the foundation for me to be able to recognize and trust the love of our Heavenly Father. Because of you, I know what it is to just sit in God’s presence and enjoy being loved and loving Him in return. I know what it is to give Him a running commentary of my life and look to hear His answer, as He smiles at/with me and then returns to sharing the moment with me. Because of you, I have the spiritual legacy of a Heavenly Father. Thank you for loving me just for me. I miss you and your love but know that we will soon be reunited, as we both bask in the presence of our Father’s love.
DIG DEEPER:
PRAYER ROOM: A Prayer for Fathers