un·con·di·tion·al:
–adjective 1. not limited by conditions; absolute: an unconditional promise.
Life's journey is a tricky one. God grants us the gift of free will. I do the best I can with this gift, trying ever so carefully not to abuse or misuse it. It is human to error. Life happens, lessons are learned. What trumps human error? Grace and the capacity to set judgmental instincts aside - and love anyway.
love:
–noun
1. a profoundly tender, passionate affection for another person.
2. a feeling of warm personal attachment or deep affection, as for a parent, child, or friend.
The last several weeks have truly been eye opening. I have been loved unconditionally, I have been loved conditionally, and I have lost based on those conditions. Conditions I didn't even realize existed until judgments surfaced and friends, family or otherwise decided their opinions are more accurate and validating for my future than my own happiness.
Friends, family, and total strangers have told me how proud my Dad was of me. He was proud of my life, my beauty, my strength as a woman, as a Christian, and in my success AND failures of my career endeavors. I can hear him saying now - even as a man of few words, "I raised a good kid and I'm proud of you, Em." It didn't matter if I was living in Oregon or in Arizona 1200 miles away, he told me he was proud of me...even if I wasn't proud of myself, whatever current situation I had found myself in - be it love, career, or otherwise. HE loved me. HE believed in me. HE told me I could do anything and everything I wanted to. HE was proud. I took this for granted. I had no idea how much I would need to hear those genuine words again from a parent! He will never see me carry on my life making those choices and decisions that God's gift of free will enables us to make. He can't see me fall in love, walk me down the isle, or hold my babies. I had no idea the absence I would feel over this. I want him to be a part of seeing me flourish and grow when life works, and also when it doesn't and I've failed and learned. Either way, he would have encouraged the journey.
On Father's Day, my brother and I went over to eastern Oregon and laid his ashes to rest in the water at the Head of the Metolius River, per his request. A total lack of direction through the grieving process occurred and I was left wondering how SHOULD I feel? What am I supposed to do now? A somber feeling swept over me. I can't pick up the phone and gush about my life to him anymore. He would take the time listen, and then in true "dad" fashion ask how my car was running or how the shop was. Sometimes our conversations would be only approximately 45 seconds! I never fathomed I would miss those seconds, like I do now. I miss them because of the unconditional love behind them. He just wanted me to be happy and now he's not even here to see it happening.
Good bye, Dad. I wish you could know how much I miss you.
