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What My Heart Needs...

My family continues to be a complicated factor in my life. My father clearly doesn't want me in his. Even though it hurts me to write this, it's how I feel. I found out that he comes to my city once a month to see his sister. But he doesn't even bother to make time for me. This probably wouldn't bother me so much, but I really want a father who wants a daughter. I don't have that. What I have is a man with whom I share DNA that I can't relate to...and even if I could, he's not interested.

I was having a conversation with my cousin at her mother's bedside. Unfortunately, my aunt is suffering from Alzheimer's and is slipping away slowly in real time. My heart aches for my cousin because she's an only child and she's doing the hard part of caring my aunt by herself. Thankfully she has an amazing husband who's helping her, but I cannot begin to imagine what she's going through.

We were talking about our sick and twisted family dynamic when she told me that I remind her of our grandmother. I was taken aback because I don't know anything about that woman except for the fact she lied to me when we met. She said that Dorothy was wicked smart and educated, which wasn't a normal thing in her time. She apparently had a slick mouth and could bring anyone down to size with a few words. "Has your dad never told you about her?" she asked me. Of course not.

I told her how I felt when I saw my picture thrown in the back of a drawer while the other grandchildren's photos decorated the walls of her house. I have never felt so much pain, before or since. That incident can clearly be classified as the most hurtful of my life.

I also shared with her how it felt when she cussed me out when I met my father for the first time at her mother's house. She told me that I ruined her family's Christmas by showing up. I stated, "First of all, they're my family, too, and I deserve to know them. Besides, I was invited." That moment was probably the second most hurtful because it marked the first time I'd ever cried myself to sleep. She didn't even remember it, but apologized for her actions just the same.

The conversation, while needed, stirred up things that I work hard to keep buried. To be honest, I'm pretty wrecked today. It's times like these that I wish I had a dedicated boyfriend who'd let me cry in his chest while I try to work out the unworkable problem in my head. 

Either way, it's necessary to get these things out in the open so they can be examined and dealt with.

But I will say this...I went to church this morning and God met me with a timely word from an unlikely source. The regular pastor wasn't there and the guest preacher was, in my flawed opinion, was well past his prime. But what he said about being at the right place at the right time resonated with me. He spoke about Simon, a Cyrenian, who was asked to bear the cross of Christ. While I can't remember exactly how he put it together, he basically said that Simon didn't ask to be part of the story of Jesus, but because he was there, he ended up playing an important role in the crucifixion of our Lord. It blessed me tremendously. I'm considering joining that body of believers because this isn't the first time I've gotten what I needed there.

Okay...feeling a little better. I guess I can run on and see what the end will be...

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