Saturday, June 26, 2004

"I Miss My Daddy"

I've just returned from taking a friend of Emily's home. She was supposed to be staying the night but after a few minutes in the dark and the realization of "bedtime" sinking in, Emily's seven year old friend had had enough. Emily came around the corner from the hall and into the living room where I was and announced that "________ wants to go home." to which I replied with a typical fatherly (let's get to the bottom of this and fix it)- "why?" Emily's next words were telling, "because she misses her daddy."

How do you fix that? How do you argue with that?

We made a last ditch effort and called her dad but her mind was made up. She wanted to be where her dad was and it became obvious to her that dad wasn't at our house.

My son John and I drove her home (about a 4 iron) to her daddy. She opened the door of my car and ran straight into her daddy's arms. It was a splendid scene to behold.

John and I took the long way home (about a long par 5) so I could show off my new car (15 years old, but new to me) that he hadn't yet seen. As I drove I remembered the times that John wouldn't want me to leave his room and asked me to come be a counselor at Outdoor Ed Camp. I remembered when John "missed his daddy."

John now lives in an apartment less than a mile from us. He is ultra responsible - holds three jobs, is completely on his own financially, gets himself up at 3:30am for work, etc. He is everything I could ask for in a son. I doubt he still "misses his daddy."

Someday Emily and her friend will too grow up and no longer "miss their daddys"

I find that sad. Probably because I'm a dad. I also see a spiritual lesson in that truth:

May we never get so old that we stop missing our "heavenly" dad. May we always realize that wherever our dad is ... that's the place we want to be!

4 comments:

Serena Voss said...

Oh, I don't know, Joel, I still miss my daddy and don't think I will ever stop missing him. I guess, older kids go through a phase where they don't want either one of their parents around, but in respect to an entire life, it usually doesn't last long. Daddys are very special people in the life of a young lady.

And as far as not ever betting against you: If it has to do with dragon slaying, I will gladly pass; but if it has to do with comments about Barton W. Stone on Mike's blog, hmmmmmmmmm...............

Serena Voss said...

P. S. You just think John doesn't miss you. Actually, you may be right for the moment, but the time will come.

My grown son went through his independent stage, but calls his dad more often now just to chat. Thank the good Lord for cell phones as they are both usually tied up with their own schedules but can call each other no matter where they might be.

Q said...

I'm 24, independent and live in an entirely other state -- and I still miss my daddy. I don't get to see him as much as I'd like to, but we do get to talk.

I dunno. Do we really get to a point at which we don't miss daddy? That'd be sad.

Val said...

I miss my dad too, Joel. But my aim is improving (rimshot). Actually, I am blessed to live in the same town with my dad and we do talk at least once every day. We are involved in business deals together occasionally and we bring very different things to the table sometimes driving each other crazy. But even though I know this is impossible, I cannot believe that he has ever intentionally sinned. Sure, I will be the first to admit he has made mistakes, but I cannot fathom a situation where he made a conscious decision that he felt was apart from God's will. In my heart, that's how I feel. In my head, I know that's impossible. Either way, I am proud to feel that way about the dork.