It’s In The Blood
in Giggles on January 15, 2020
I’ve been wrestling with this post for about two weeks. Should I write it? Should I leave it alone? Should I write it and send it to a friend to read, first? Well, THAT’S laughable…if I typed up anything, and sent it off to a friend BEFORE I rapid-fired it off at my target…let’s just say, I wouldn’t be banned from nearly as many school email lists.
Bet y’all are curious now.
Around New Year’s, Jeff took our boys up to Colorado for a little get-away. This was not a huge deal…at least for me. Colorado is the devil’s trifecta for me in the winter: Ice, Snow, and Heights, all of which strengthen my anxiety to catastrophic levels. My daughter and I opted out, and stayed home with the dogs.
Throughout the weekend, the boys dutifully sent pictures, documenting their fun. On their last day there, this picture came through on the group text…
I took one look at this picture of my oldest son, and my heart stopped; not because he’s on a mountain or because he’s far away, but because in this moment, in this picture, his face was not his own. I saw in the face of my child, whom I love more than anything, the face of someone I loathe.
I saw my father.
Technically, I have not seen my father in almost two decades. If I’m being completely honest and transparent, at this point in my life, I don’t actually loathe him…I feel nothing for him. I was genuinely caught off guard by the striking family resemblance between him and Ethan. It’s uncanny.
Like I said, I’ve been sitting on this post for a couple of weeks. During that time of contemplation, I’ve been diligently working on some other projects that have had me buried deep in my Bible. Coincidence? Probably not.
Families are a funny thing. You don’t always get along. You don’t often understand why some family members make the choices that they do. I don’t understand why some Daddy’s leave and never look back. I’ll never understand that. But, the family is an amazing organism…it is alive and constantly growing. God designed it as such. When a sick or diseased branch of the family tree is cut off, another is grafted in.
That happened in my family. You’ll read in several posts on this blog about “my parents” or “my dad”, I was grafted into another family, after my father left. Anyone can father a child. A daddy is something else.
We can’t run from our genetics. It’s in the blood. They’re always gonna be there, lurking. They’ll most likely pop up in unexpected times and places. When that happens, shake it off, and keep going.
Can you see it?
Have a great day.