Between approximately 1508 and 1512 Michelangelo created one of the world's most magnificent, awe inspiring works of art in his painting of the Sistine Chapel ceiling. Much to the chagrin of Pope Julius
II, the artist worked tirelessly, on his back, candle in mouth to create a complete telling of the Bible from "The Creation of Adam" to the death and resurrection of Christ. "The Creation of Adam" or more specifically, the two hands reaching towards each other, is one of my favorite art pieces of all time. We have it hanging in our home. I never tire of the work, staring at it as I sip my coffee. I am always drawn to some new wrinkle or detail that the artist painstakingly included to complete his vision. It says so much in just that tiny corner of the massive cathedral mural. I am absolutely convinced the work was that of divine intervention or vision.
Tomorrow is Father's Day. It will be the first one I experience without my dad, affectionately known as the Big Bopper or Pops. He's with the Bears and Papa Bear at ethereal training camp. Knowing my dad I am quite sure that he has offered his services to the Creator to help out in showing the new camp arrivals around and introducing them to his friends. He loved doing that here. Why would he stop in paradise?
I can say that it is strange and painful not knowing he is "here." I am grateful he is "there" and free of the pain and anxiety that wore at his mind and body at the end of his journey on Earth. That being said, there were some Father's Days when he was here and I wasn't all there. Thus I didn't share those moments with him. Addiction doesn't care about holidays. They are licenses to use as far as I was concerned. If I wasn't on good terms with my Pop it was a reason to feel shame and get extra lit to bury that uncomfortable emotion.
As a father myself, this Father's Day is bittersweet. Last night 3 of my 4 kids slept at home. Hemi is in from Germany. Amanda is doing better and slept on our couch. Bro is always here. The 4 have not been assembled together in months. Tomorrow 2 of the 3 will go to their biological father's house for the "Big Day", as it should be. I will spend the day with my wife and Hemi going to Montana Charlie's flea market. I collect antique book and CD's out of print. I love the smell of an old book like burning leaves or freshly popped movie popcorn. Finding a rare blues CD or out of print album from my youth is like finding a lost treasure. Then I will come home and sacrifice some poor creature on the grill for all of our culinary pleasure and fall asleep to a White Sox game. I look very much forward to both or all three.
I do not know where my youngest daughter Kelly is. I know she is safe and I know her Mother treats her well. It troubles me that I have purposely had the same phone number since she was 3, yet she still doesn't call. I pray for her to, but if she does is beyond my control. I have accepted that. As I am older and my sobriety deepens I can see how the Big Bopper must have felt on those days when I lived on the street not knowing if I would call, if I was hungry, alive or worse.
I have been lucky to be with her on 2 of her last 3 birthdays. She knows her daddy has never used in front
of her. She has never seen me drunk. Unfortunately she is hearing one side of the story right now about her mother and me. My time will come. I will be sober and she can draw her own conclusions.
I don't think God is an evil god but I do think He teaches me through things I've done. He usually uses my mistakes more than my successes. Kelly will call in her time. I will work that out with God and Kelly at the time or if it never happens at all I will deal with it also. This is life.
The photo you see posted at the top of this chapter was taken a few days before my dad passed. I took it with my camera phone. I did not do it to be morbid or saddened. My dad was an "Old School" tough guy for the most part, until the end. Towards the end of his life he would ask that I hold his hand. I did so eagerly, making up for years missed and opportunities wasted. I snapped this shot as he slipped off to sleep and I was leaving. I was unaware that he was so close to eternity. I was elated at its modern parallel to my favorite Michelangelo work, "The Creation of Adam."
I do not know how your relationship with your Pop, Daddy, Father, Pa or whatever name you call him is. As Father's Day is only 24 hours away you have some options. You may see him. When you do, kiss him and tell him you love him. You may honor his memory. Think of a wonderful time when you both laughed and he made you feel special, like the most precious gift in the world. You may be on difficult terms with him. Call him and just say Happy Father's Day. It may be the first step to a new relationship. You may not know who he is or where he is at. In that case forgive him and pray for him and thank him for giving you life to become the special person you are to your family, children and friends.
Pops, I love you.
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