I've worked at a gym for the past three years. Each year, on different holidays, I am always astounded how people decide to work out rather than be with their familes. I remember last year on Mother's Day the scary amount of people at the gym pumping iron. My mother and I are very close so an extremely large part of me wanted to go pull the fire alarm, break out a bullhorn and tell them to leave and go call their mothers.
I've lived 1,800 miles away from my family for the past three years and have only been able to spend Christmas and a small part of summer with them. When I see people working out on holidays, a part of me becomes infuriated and confused at the fact that they aren't with their family. Something I have to remind myself is that, family is messy and people make their own decisions. Each situation is different so I can't be upset that they chose to not be with their family.
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Last Father's Day, I caught myself standing on a double standard. I was working out on Father's Day, and I felt no shame about it.
I'm not the biggest fan of Father's Day if I'm being honest with you, dear reader. I haven't had anyone to celebrate or commerate for the past decade. I don't have many memories of Father's Day, and for more than half of my life, it's just been another day.
As Father's Day is making it's annual apperance in the next few weeks, I figured I would re-open the sometimes touchy subject of families and fathers.
As I said earlier, and most of you probably know this, family is messy. A hot mess, to be more specific. In this day and age the definition of a family is up in the air. Sometimes family is your biological family, other times you're welcomed into an unbiological family, maybe your friends you consider family, maybe you want nothing to do with a family cause you've been so wounded by yours.
Bottom line: Family is messy. Every person involved is messy: The mother, the brother, the sister and the father.
Reader, I'm gonna get real real with you for a second and hopefully you'll learn from my mistake. For too long I have let my anger toward my biological father rob me of trusting and authentically loving my Heavenly Father. I've also let my anger toward my biological father rob me of the gift of forgiveness. All of these years I have chosen to focus on how I was continually let down by someone who was probably doing the best that he could do at the time.
One of my favorite authors right now is research professor, Brene Brown. I recently read her newest book "Rising Strong." The book is all about how to get up after getting your butt kicked in the arena of life. It was a very humbling read but the main thing I took away from it was when she quoted her husband, Steve when she asked him if he thought people were genuinely doing their best all the time. Steve, then in turn, responded.
"All I know is that my life is better when I assume that people are doing their best. It keeps me out of judgment and lets me focus on what is, and not what should or could be."
I have been so focused on what should've been or what could've been, when I could've just forgiven him and cherished the good memories.
In reality my earthly father was just doing the best he could at the time with what he had. Does that make his decision to leave my family better or justify how he left? No. Does that mean I have to sit in my anger and bitterness and what he wasn't? Not at all.
This year, on Father's Day I am choosing to focus on the good rather than marinate on the madness. Something I can't deny is that when my father loved me, he loved hard - a trait I believe he passed to me. My earthly father loved me the best he could but my Heavenly Father will eternally love me no matter how much of a hot mess I am and that is what I will cling to.
