Part 5 - Confessions Of a Changed Person - Happy Fathers Day To All Dads

We lived peacefully for the remaining part of our lives and tried to shake off all the troubles we had gone through. It seemed like my father had somehow evaporated, we never saw him or heard from him until I was 25. This was 12 years after. I met Joyce in 1980 and within 2 years we were customarily married. We stayed with my mother at home. In 1984 we had a celebration which our families really wanted us to have. All the happenings of that day were very special to both Joyce and I as we celebrated with our families and friends, everything just went well and we were excited.

In the evening something unexpected happened; my father mysteriously showed up and there he was enjoying whatever was remaining of the occasion. At that time I was already born again and active in our Church. I must confess that I had quite a lot of mixed feelings about him; a part of me hated him or shall I say did not like him because I was saved and knew very well that I could not, by God's law practice hatred towards anyone, not even my worst enemy. But I knew in my heart that I did not want him anywhere near me at that time.

But here was this man whom I last saw when I was 12 and I did not know what to say to him. I went to him and greeted him and that was about it! we had no conversation. I sat besides him not even looking him in the face and my life began to rewind before my eyes. I recalled everything he did to us and tears ran down my face; my heart was filled with the greatest sorrow I have ever felt in my life so far. But then something strange happened to me I began to feel sorry for him instead. I saw before me a man who was himself a victim of circumstances. I will always thank God for my mother. she behaved as if nothing had happened between them. She was speaking nicely to him even offering him food and whatever he needed at that time. Somehow I could read between the lines that my mom was not prepared to retaliate and I knew deep down inside my heart that if I was indeed my mother's son I have to make her happy and act in the same way she did. I did exactly that and I felt the peace of God within me. 

I lifted my head and hugged my dad in a very meaningful way. We both knew that it was okay. I called Joyce and introduced both her and my son to my father. He took my son in his arms and played with him. I asked him where he lived and he told me and that was the only true conversation we had that evening. There was still a part of me that wanted to reject him but I forced myself to do the right thing and put my feeling aside. I won that battle on the spot, and for a while it felt like there was a re-union and the family was back together again
When evening came my dad indicated that he was going to leave before it got too late I offered to take him where ever he was going. He learnt that evening that I had a car and he was happy for me. I went into my bedroom and took exactly half of all my clothes; underwear and shoes and packed them neatly in bags and offered them to him. He appreciated that and thanked me. Before he left that evening he prayed for us the family and specifically mentioned to God that he was asking God to bless me.

I drove him to where lived with his new family and on my way back I wept until I reached home. That day I knew in my heart that I did not wish to grow up to be like my father. I wanted to be a different husband and father to both Joyce and my kids. We never heard from my father again until two years after. One morning my brother woke up and he somehow decide to go and search for my father. He discovered that he was no longer staying where I left him 2 years ago, so my my brother traced him until he found him 400 kilometers away from home. He was lying sick in hospital suffering from a cancer of the throat. His family abandoned him in January of that same year and when my brother found him it was already March 2008. That evening my brother came and related the story to my mother and us, and my mother once more acted in a very challenging manner. She ordered us to go fetch our father from the hospital and make sure that he gets well somehow. The next morning I went to work because we agreed last night that both my mom and my brother were going to fetch my dad.

That day I could not work as efficient as I used to. My mind was preoccupied with a lot of things. I began to ask myself too many questions around the  whole matter. Was it going to be fine with all of us; how are we going to live again as a normal family? Well at least I will go home after work and these questions shall be answered. When I got home that evening what I saw was not was I imagined the whole day. My father had shrunk to half his normal size. He had not been able to eat or drink orally for three months because the cancer had blocked his throat. And as for the rugs he was wearing my heart sank and I wept. I took into my bedroom and told him that as his eldest son I forgive him on behalf of the family he never answered but just sat there silently looking intently at the wall opposite him. I asked him if I could dress him up in better clothes and he agreed. That evening we prayed with him and decided to take him to the doctor the next day. It was on Friday when he came home. I felt so much drawn to him and began to miss him whilst he sat there and I wished that I could reverse time and be a child once more so I can enjoy his presence. On Sunday morning we went to Church with my dad except for my mother who was a member of another Church. She went to her's as well. I was already Pastoring our church and we had a small congregation. At the end of my sermon I made an invite to those who wanted to make Jesus their Lord and saviour; my father was the only one who responded that day. He struggled to stand and the ushers helped him. I prayed with my own father to accept Jesus, and this was the most emotional moment of my life. We were re-united once more. It was amazing how we went through a complete circle and how once more father and son stood side by side under the shadow of the almighty. 
He went on to be with the Lord in the next ten days.

To me it felt like my world had come crumbling down. I opened his coffin and looked him in the face, tears running down my face I touched his forehead foolishly hoping that he was not dead. He just lay there until I closed the coffin. I knew this chapter was closed and that we shall meet on the other side. As I stood at his grave I felt so lost only God knows why. It took me the next seven years weeping every time I remember him; and I remembered him almost daily so you can imagine what I went through. 
Before my mother passed away she asked that when she dies we must bury her in the same grave, and this happened on the 24th September 2009. They too were united again in death. HAPPY FATHERS DAY TO ALL THE DADS.

This entry was posted on Monday, June 21, 2010 . You can leave a response and follow any responses to this entry through the Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom) .


Happy Fathers' Day to you too. Enjoy being the gift you are and God keep and bless you.

Mfundisi wami

Happy father's day to all you blogging fathers.The series on the growing up experience bab' Kotu had is very touching and perplexing. Having read it, I can conclude by saying I am better off having not seen my father (he died a month before I was born).I also believe that having gone through the experience,your are the most treasured dad in the whole Kotu family and in our church.The blessings fathers speak on their families do come to pass. From now on, I will strive to be the best father my family has.

Guys thank you so much for your feed back. And yes, Muzi one thing I truly thank God for is that our relationship with my dad ended in a positive note. MVK