Wednesday, January 9, 2013


Family is important.  There's no way around it.  Every culture, every creed, every religion, every time period, every history book.  Family is important.

Novels aren't written about events, not even the historical ones, they are written about relationships, love, connections, and the "main event" is nothing more than the backdrop for the story of family.

Most of my life I've tried to be calloused about some of my family, indifferent about their opinions and reactions (or complete lack thereof), and have tried to discount their affect on me.
A facade.
Sometimes elaborate, sometimes thinly veiled, sometimes believable even to me, but a facade nonetheless.

I wish I could be indifferent to those who abandoned, to those who hate, to those who are... indifferent of me and mine.  And I can, as long as they are 'out of sight and out of mind'.  During the years of silence I can almost distract myself enough to forget the abandonment, the laying judgement and responsibility of adults actions on a child, the indifference towards all others around them, the betrayal, I can even sometimes push out the crushing pain and disbelief of family being indifferent to the next generation as well, forgetting at times that my beautiful 5 year old daughter, sweet and perfectly innocent, does not even know their faces, even (in the simplicity of a baby) asking my wife "daddy's daddy is dead, right?"
I can feel resolved in my forward focus and have security in my "moved on" until...  when every other year a casual "Merry Christmas" text crosses my phone and those few dead pixels send me into a spiral of pain, doubt, fear, anger, resentment, disbelief; reverting me back to that 10 year old boy who's fault this all is.

I am a firm believer in being in charge of your life, taking ownership of your feelings, and deciding how you will respond (you dictate your life-your life does not dictate you) and was taught these by great examples who made me who I am today (my older brother, my uncle, and my grandfather, and my 2 grandmothers to name a few)... but occasionally, despite all my best efforts, my resolve and practiced indifference melts into a scared, scarred, huddled up little boy who, despite his truly blessed life, amazing family, and innumerable friends and loved ones, just misses his mom who passed and longs for his dad he never had.

1 comment:

  1. I'm sorry, Levi. Sorry you've gone through the things you have and that you have to live with the things you do.

    That said, you are, from as much of you as I've gotten to know, an incredible man of God and a loving husband and father.

    I'm praying for you brother.