Stream of Unconscious

Often I wake in the middle of the night with thoughts and visions that must be written. A lot of it may seem like mere rambling, but I am a born writer; I need to see what happens to my words once they stare back at me from the pages of my computer screen. Since I am ususally more than half-asleep when this happens, I jokingly entitled the original document: "Stream of Unconscious." Now that I am finally starting to publish in a blog (as so many people have suggested I should do!), I thought the title remained appropriate.

Sunday, June 15, 2008

A Dragon's Job

Donald Miller says that having a Dad is like owning a dragon. To take something so great and powerful and strong, and to know that it is truly yours, that it is there to protect and defend you... who wouldn't want that? It would be amazing.

I never got a chance to own a dragon. But I always wanted one.

Then there are all the fairy tales, that paint a picture of the horrible, cruel dragon guarding the princess in some lofty tower while she awaits her brave knight to come rescue her. I know girls who still operate under this type of system with their fathers. She's "under his authority" until her husband decides to show up, and then they pass her off like some antique heirloom. Nice.

I'm hoping there is a third category out there. My knight must have gotten lost somewhere along the way. My dragon never cared enough to guard me from anything. In fact, if anything, he took it upon himself to cause me a lot of grief and heartache that I am still attempting to mend. The sad thing is, these days it is far from uncommon. My struggle to survive simply confirms the statistics.

I am, at least, grateful for our ability to adapt. I am trying, anyway.

So it is Father's Day. And this holiday is weird for me. It cuts much deeper than, say, Valentine's Day. And I guess that's because I can see somewhere in my future having some semblance of a Valentine. But I will never, ever get to have a Dad.

Perhaps I am not being fair, though. I have had a few father/daughter relationships with men who took me into their families simply because they cared that much about my broken heart. I called one of my "adopted Dads" yesterday, in fact, because he has been more of a father to me than mine ever was. And there is still another that I need to call...

But I'm thinking of calling my biological dad, too. I know. I must be crazy. I have no expectations. He could do or say anything. Honestly, I could say anything as well. I've got a lot of pent up anger I've never taken out on anyone. Lord help him if he sets off that minefield!

But I've got one of those scenarios playing out in my head where, in the movies at least, there is distance between the father/daughter, and then one day before she knows it he's dead and she's standing there at his grave wondering why she never picked up a phone and called him. If my father died, would I regret never having said something to him? This question has been bugging me lately.

The problem is, my life was not scripted by Hallmark, and the things I will probably end up saying are not the lovey-dovey, just-in-case-you-die sorts of things. But what I will say, I do not know. I could really freak him out by telling him he was supposed to be a dragon, and didn't fulfill a dragon's job in my life! :)

But life is just like that, because there was a garden and there was a forbidden fruit, and there was a decision, a fall, and a sinful world followed. We all have our set of obstacles to overcome, decisions to make, and battles to fight. This one happens to be mine. I never had a protector as a child, and I will probably have a hard time letting a man assume that role in my future. I want it, for sure, but I don't know if I'll let it happen. I'm pretty awkward when it comes to dating. I hope the next guy is pretty brave...

I guess I'll post an update if I get up the courage to call him. Say a prayer for me, if you're the praying type. And Happy Father's Day, to all you who choose to use your power for good...

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