Happy Death Day

I physically lost my dad February 25,2022, but had watched Alzheimer’s take him from us little by little for over a decade.

His last week of life was one of the longest I’ve ever experienced. Each morning felt like the Bill Murray movie Groundhog Day. We would get up and meet around his bedside singing, sitting, praying, laughing, crying while he lay unconscious. We would say goodnight around 11pm, and meet the next morning to do it all over again.

Six days in, on Friday, I woke at 3am and began praying again for him to pass. My brother Scott called me at 3:22 and said he had passed at 3:04am with no one at his side. I left my house at 3:30 to meet Scott and his wife to view dad’s body at the rest home.

My dearest friend had sent me her Apple Music praise and worship list earlier in the week but I had not listened. It automatically came on as the road curved toward southeast and the moon was huge and orange, hanging like an aging sun over the darkened city. it looked unreal, like a movie scene. I’ve never seen one like it. A song I’d never heard was playing, Love Has Won by Citizen Way.

As I’m trying to take all of this in, my phone rings and it’s my brother as he was just ahead of me on the road seeing the same surreal sky. He acted liked our dad always did when viewing an amazing waterfall or majestic mountain on family trips. “Did you see that moon? Did you see it? Look look don’t miss this moment!”

It was very profound. I was overwhelmed with laughter as tears streamed down my face.

Fast forward to May of the same year. Wichita’s Museum of World Treasures (my dad was the founder) had a “ghost hunter” overnight experience. The guide told me my dad was in the room and asked if I wanted to see his presence and hear his voice with her equipment. I skeptically said I would, and I saw some sort of light lines jumping around on the screen and heard a voice say “yes it’s me…sing!” (For a good six months before his death, I had sung at his bedside every day) I began singing his favorite song Edelweiss from The Sound of Music and the lights on the screen began jumping excitedly. Our guide began crying, she was so moved. Later she came up to me and said dad would contact me somehow in the next few weeks and he would make sure to show me it was not just a dream.

Three weeks later we took an incredible Alaskan cruise (May 28-June 4) and Covid delayed us in Seattle, Washington. The last night there, I had a dream about Daddy. My brother Scott and I were in a car, I was driving and Scott was in the front passenger seat. All of the sudden we heard Dad in the back seat, I think he was talking or singing, and I said to Scott, “Do you hear him?” He said that he did. I think we sang together and told him how much we love and miss him.

I woke up feeling sad the dream was over, and wanted to remember what was said. I laid on my back in bed and focused on Daddy in my thoughts. I think sleep paralysis (common for me)came on, and suddenly Dad was talking to me in my mind. I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him mentally. There was some sort of code given that told me it wasn’t a dream like the one I had before. He said to remember it but now I can’t recall it! He also told me he knew I had a dream about him earlier and wanted to make sure I knew this wasn’t a dream. There was a song I’d never heard but seemed familiar to me because it was about being happy together as a family. I babbled quickly about how much I love him and miss him and asked him if he’s happy and he said “Oh yes, very!” He assured me he’s fine and of his love. And suddenly I felt him leave as I returned to full consciousness and opened my eyes. The whole experience was like a static filled overseas phone call from the 1970’s. I wish I had immediately written everything down, but I mulled over it for awhile before drifting off to sleep again.

After waking in the morning and telling Mike what had happened, I realized it was June 7, 2023, his 86th birthday.

There are some who would say all of this was my own psyche trying to comfort myself during a difficult time. There are others who would say it’s wrong to consult a medium. My heart and soul know I was given reassurance from my dad. We had had many discussions through the years concerning the afterlife and our doubts and fears. He knew I shared his skepticism and I believe he gave me these special moments to let me know, all is well. Whenever I feel hopeless, I listen to Love Has Won. Find it here https://youtube.com/watch?v=l-tzgWrxM2Q&feature=shares

Love Has Won

“This is a song for the hurting

I hope that it helps you to heal

This is a song when the worst of the worst

Is all that you can feel

And this is a song for the lonely

If you’ve lost someone you can’t live without

A song for the souls that are searching

And hearts that are broken down

Sing with me now

Sing with me now

Hallelujah love has won

Hallelujah love has won

God is with us, thank You Jesus

Though the battle rages on

Hallelujah love has won

Yeah

Sometimes it feels like it’s hopeless

It’s a war just to hang by a thread

Sometimes on this side of heaven

Oh, it just doesn’t make sense

And that’s why He gave us this family

With a promise that nothing can break

That one day we’ll all be together

And the devil can’t take that away

Oh, so don’t be afraid

He’s already conquered the grave

So sing

Hallelujah love has won

Hallelujah love has won

God is with us, thank You Jesus

Though the battle rages on

Hallelujah love has won

Oh, can you hear the angels sing

Death is dead, we’re finally free

How sweet the sound

How sweet, how sweet

All creation will bow

And we’ll sing

Hallelujah love has won

Hallelujah love has won

God is with us, thank You Jesus

Though the battle rages on

Hallelujah love has won

This is a song for the hurting

I hope that it helps you to heal.”

Of Books, Bishops and Beatitudes

Thanks to a dear friend, I’m currently reading Rachel Held Evans’ 2010 book, Faith Unraveled and I feel such a kinship! I too grew up in a loving Christian home with intelligent people striving to prove our faith to a lost world. We devoured Lee Strobel, Ravi Zacharias, Josh McDowell, and the likes. Our second bible was CS Lewis’s Mere Christianity.

I was fortunate that my dad was a seeker and not afraid of my doubts and questions. We had many conversations about other faiths and both of us rested in the belief that God is Love, therefore wherever and in whomever genuine love resides regardless of status, religion, gender, culture, or race, God dwells. This belief is my foundation, the very reason I didn’t reject Christianity entirely, and, as I read it, the New Testament upholds this with Jesus’s own teachings.

Jesus turns conservative, capitalistic fundamentalism on its head. There simply is no way to make the beatitudes a defense for the blessedness of nationalism, capitalism and the health wealth gospel. The poor, meek, broken-hearted, the merciful, the pure in heart and the peacemakers…these shall inherit the earth. We are to love our enemies and turn the other cheek, pray behind closed doors in secret, and give away our possessions. We are to be Jesus’s hands and feet, to be the salt of the earth, to share the good news that God loves the world! The message is clear…love love love! Let us weigh every action against love to see if it is of God. Too many times I have listened to my own or others’ fears and called them God’s will.

My friend Michelle is experiencing Les Miserables Live on stage in Nashville this evening. Earlier today she and I were discussing Inspector Javert and how he could not conceive of the concept of grace. He put the law above all else and could not accept anything but dualism….”this is good and that is bad”, “I am right therefore you are wrong,”etc. Javert is a perfect example of what most humans think righteousness looks like, yet Jean Valjean is the one who radiates compassion and love (God’s heart) after he accepted the grace he was shown by Bishop Myriel.

As I was reading Evan’s account of her disillusionment with the church a steady stream of tears began to roll down my cheeks. I love my heritage, I love the people I grew up with, I love singing praise and worship music, and I love our world, I believe in civil rights and equality, and that God is bigger than my comprehension. God is bigger than my understanding, bigger than the Bible, than the church and its many leaders and congregations, God is greater than all of these. God is not limited to our religious boundaries and rules, and any time I find myself getting confused by the different voices here claiming to be the only truth, I ask myself…Is this voice one of Love, Compassion, and Grace? If not then it is not of God no matter how holy it seems.

Everything and everyone from books to bishops must be examined and weighed against Love.

The Beatitudes

He said: “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted. Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth. Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled. Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God. Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God. Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. “Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you. “You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot. “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”

Matthew 5:2-16 NIV

Vulnerability

I am a mentor to a student at my school. He has experienced a lot of tragedy and sadness in his short life and doesn’t smile a lot. I decided one of my greatest goals with him is to lighten his load, make him laugh, share some joy! We’ve started a gratitude list, shared pizza a few times, and played kick ball with a soccer pillow in my room. Today I knew he was feeling comfortable with me because he asked me to tie his shoe and when I began to do so he deliberately farted. I dramatically held my breath and acted like I was going to die and he laughed hard and long. I didn’t think much about it.

Until tonight.

I was driving home from dinner, having an emotional moment, speaking aloud to God.

“Why can’t we smell with our noses without collecting boogers? Why can’t we eat incredible foods without the nasty aftermath? Why can’t there be beauty without ugliness? Don’t You get tired of it all? Especially decaying and death…. Doesn’t it get OLD???”

I then said aloud “I guess death has its own beauty. Death is vulnerability.”

That hit my heart.

I saw it in my dad.

I saw it in my mother in law.

Their lives were lived with shields out and swords drawn, so vulnerability wasn’t easily seen until they were dying.

My mind immediately contrasted that with the way my sweet mama has lived her life, showing her heart, being vulnerable day by day as she lives. I thanked God for her and decided I needed Siri to write my thoughts down for a future blog post. I said very distinctly and articulately, “Death is vulnerability.”

Siri interpreted, “Gas is vulnerability.” At this point I just knew my dad was messing with me. I’d been talking to him earlier about how much I missed him and how much I’ve struggled. I’ve been hyper focused on trying to do what’s right and figuring out my entire life’s purpose.

(I also recently had a coyote sighting on a walk, and felt there was a spiritual meaning. Shortly after the encounter, I dreamed of coyotes, which I’ve since learned can mean I need to lighten up and shake things up a bit. Coyotes are tricksters and unpredictable.)

Maybe I don’t need to be so serious all of the time. Maybe I don’t need to constantly think of death and whether or not I’m fulfilling my life’s purpose. Maybe my student isn’t the only one that needs to lighten up.

Yes death is vulnerability.

But frankly so is gas.

My dictation: Death is vulnerability. Ha ha, ha ha, daddy you did that! Oh ha, ha ha ha ha ha oh, daddy, death is vulnerability, death death!

Siri’s interpretation(or King Jon’s): Gas is vulnerability. Ha ha ha ha ha you did that. Oh ha ha ha ha ha ha ha, ha oh daddy yes is vulnerability. Yes Jasper!

Sanctuary

I’m on the back screened in porch of our Beaver Lake, Arkansas house listening to cicadas and frogs as the light fades.

Daddy built this house in 1986 when I was 18. While searching for property that year he drove and drove until he came to the end of a peninsula and decided it must be his land. Luckily he found a reputable builder this time and that’s why I’m here on the screened in porch in 2022 writing of my love for this place.

Life is such a mysterious grab bag. For reference, when I was a little girl I went to a special fair at church that had mystery grab bags. I remember being so excited to buy one for a dollar and place my nervous sweaty hand in the brown paper bag to discover it’s contents. Unfortunately it was a disappointing mix of trinket toys and candy. Is that all life has to offer?

I choose to live in the nervous excitement I had as an eight year old with the mystery grab bag. God is so much bigger than that…so I’m going to continue to hope in God’s greatness. I choose to believe I have limited understanding yet there is eternal hope and redemption for all.

Rejoice! Rejoice! God loves all! GOD LOVES ALL!

Thank you God for the cicadas, the lake, and the hummingbirds. You remind me all is sacred and all is beloved. Therefore all is eternal.❤️ Dad made this house as a sanctuary for all who visited. Just like Quasimodo yelled “Sanctuary!” for Esmeralda in The Hunchback of Notre Dame. I am in a sanctuary of peace to reset my heart and mind on what is right and important. We all need such a sanctuary.

Happy Birthday

Today we celebrated my 54th birthday. Well to be honest the celebrations started at the beginning of April…I celebrate my birth month! But today was my party with my immediate family and I am grateful.

It’s been one of the hardest years of my life. I lost my dad, we became empty nesters, and there are many other stressors due to this season of life. I’m thankful I made it to 54. I have friends that didn’t. I also have the sober realization that I’m not promised a long life. We have this moment, so I want to take the time to say what I think and feel. I may not get another opportunity.

I’m thankful for my parents. My dad was a magical person who was perfectly imperfect and I miss him to my core. My mom is one of my best friends and has taught me no matter how old you get you can be beautiful inside and out! I’m thankful for my partner in life Mike who weathers every lifestorm with me, I can’t imagine doing this without him! I’m thankful for my boys who are now men but know they are never done growing, it is a lifelong process. I’m thankful for my grandsons❤️! I’m thankful for my friends, some I’m related too and some I feel related to! I’m thankful for my job at Maize South Elementary where I get to be with God’s favorite people! I’m thankful for Excelcia Music Publishing and Jamey Ray for taking a chance on a newbie. I’m thankful for my labs and for my home and for everything else in my life that has taught me what is truly valuable and good and true.

This has not been an easy birthday. In fact, I could say this year alone is the reason I full on panicked when I hit 50, because I knew this year was in my immediate future. Life is difficult. Life is painful. Life is rich and full and good. Thank you for another year of living.❤️

Big Shoes to Fill

A few days after daddy died my brother Scott, his wife, Cindy, and I went back to his room and picked up the rest of his things. His black leather loafers were still in the closet by his bed. Before his death, many times during my visits he would point to the closet and say “Are they in there? Come on, let’s go!“ I would open the closet and show him the shoes and tell him we didn’t need them just yet.

I don’t know how old the shoes are, but they look just like the ones he wore over twenty years ago when we hiked to the tea house at Lake Louise in Alberta, Canada. It would be fitting indeed if they were the very shoes he wore as he laughingly and fearlessly led us up the steep incline. Our oldest boys were five and seven and loved each minute of the exploration, only too ready to follow King Jon’s every step!

The day I brought his shoes home I put them on and felt the bigness of them. My feet slid around much like they did when I was a child. I felt the weight and size of them…big shoes to fill, too big for me, so I put them in my closet next to my own shoes. Day after day I felt the stinging loss of him when I would see the shoes that once marched up mountains collecting dust next to my Sperrys.

Our twenty-seven year old son, Keenan, had always been a kindred spirit to his Papa Jon. They loved to talk of wars and weapons, ancient civilizations and kings and generals. In the 4th grade Keenan wrote an essay about his hero, Papa Jon, describing all the things he admired about him.

Flash forward to this evening. We had family dinner and Keenan and his lovely partner Jen stayed a little later than the others. As we were talking I suddenly remembered the shoes. I asked Keenan if he thought they might fit and he said he’d like to try them on. I ran to the closet, dusted them off and he slipped them on like Cinderella’s glass slippers!

The joy I felt at that moment took me by surprise! I’d been ignoring how bothered I was that my dad’s shoes were empty, sitting in my closet. They was a constant reminder that he is gone and I can’t see him, hold his hand, kiss his forehead, or sing to him ever again in this lifetime. But now, they are filled with someone who loves adventure and life as much as King Jon did. Someone who called him Papa and cherished him, someone who King Jon was especially fond of.

My heart is full…and so are daddy’s shoes!

The Shadow

I started this blog in April of 2017 in order to write down some of my favorite memories of my dad and to help me process losing him to Alzheimer’s.

On February 25th 2022 at 3:04 am, daddy finally left his earthly body. I’ve wanted him to be released from here for so many years that I didn’t really think about how much I would grieve when he finally was gone. The pain hits me right through my core and I can’t explain how deep it hurts. He was my hero.

I’m so glad he’s not hurting or confused any longer. I believe he still exists, that somehow he is with YHWH, though I can’t see or hear him.

I hope.

I hope in my God of love and redemption, my God of miracles and healing. I hope for a reunion of great joy when my faith is reality. I’m so thankful for CS Lewis’s creative ideas concerning heaven expressed in his book The Great Divorce. It’s hard to imagine heaven as anything but cloudy haze as my reality is living day to day in this physical world, yet Lewis entertains our bodies there will be more real, more solid. Even every blade of heavenly grass is so solid and so real, it hurts the feet of one who is from the earthly world, they can barely walk on it. Ah what an incredible concept! To think that what we know in the here and now is truly just a shadow of what is to come, that is a lovely thought! As the narrator is taken on a tour of both heaven and hell, he is told by his guide, Scottish author and Christian minister, George MacDonald,

“Son, ye cannot in your present state understand eternity…That is what mortals misunderstand. They say of some temporal suffering, “No future bliss can make up for it,” not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory. And of some sinful pleasure they say “Let me have but this and I’ll take the consequences”: little dreaming how damnation will spread back and back into their past and contaminate the pleasure of the sin. Both processes begin even before death. The good man’s past begins to change so that his forgiven sins and remembered sorrows take on the quality of Heaven: the bad man’s past already conforms to his badness and is filled only with dreariness. And that is why…the Blessed will say “We have never lived anywhere except in Heaven, : and the Lost, “We were always in Hell.” And both will speak truly.

There is nothing normal about death. We try to make it so, because it has always been and it is our destiny, yet to experience it seem ludicrous. My dad who protected me, who loved me, who seemed invincible, the same dad whose lap I crawled up in when I was scared of the abominable snow monster in the stop motion Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, is now buried in the ground lifeless cold and decomposing.

That’s not normal. That’s not even ok. Yet we make casseroles and gather and tell stories and try to accept it for what it is. I don’t have any answers. I only have hope. And that has to be enough. But the grief that I feel over the past 15 years of Alzheimer’s and now the death of my dad, that grief can’t be consoled in this lifetime. We are told to become like little children (Matthew 18:3) yet who would ever treat a child like this? But I’ll trust God anyway because I’d rather do that than be an atheist. I hope God has things under control and that our lives now are just a shadow of what is to come.

“These are a shadow of the things that were to come; the reality, however, is found in Christ.”
‭‭Colossians‬ ‭2:17‬

Remember Me

I wrote a song about my dad in 1998.

I was mad at him.

He was an eccentric genius who grew up as a PK in the 1940’s and 50’s. He loved Jesus. He was taught men rule the world and women should wear high heels, cook good food, and bear children. When I was 18 I was intelligent, talented, and beautiful, but I weighed 135 pounds and was 5 ft 7 inches. He said I needed to lose 5. He also said I needed to go to college and get a degree in anything, It didn’t matter what I studied because I would marry and both he and my husband would take care of me.

I never felt good enough.

My older sister was Miss Indiana 1980….gorgeous, talented, skinny, beautiful.

She never felt good enough.

Can you imagine being a 12 year old girl at the Miss America pageant, knowing your beautiful older sister who wore a crown felt ugly? What did that make me?

I was the funny one. I tried so hard to lighten everyone up and make the room brighter. I made my room the color of sunshine and I emotionally tap danced my way through life until I hit 30 and decided I deserved a rest. I started therapy and had several heart to hearts over the phone with my dad. I yelled at him. I cried. I told him exactly how I felt about his attitude towards women.

He apologized. He said he was brought up that way and now he realized it was wrong. He was wrong.

You need to understand how monumental this was for my dad to admit he was wrong. He used to quote the Fonzie line from Happy Days, “I was wa wa wa” instead of saying “I was wrong”. But my dad said “I’m sorry, I was wrong. You’re right. Women are just as smart as men and can do anything they want if they work hard. I’m sorry. You are talented and intelligent and can do anything you set your mind to.”

That’s the day I truly loved my dad because I experienced his love for me. He renounced his upbringing, his religion, (not his God as they are different entities) and I loved him so much for meeting me in my pain.

I wrote this song in 1998 when I was angry with him. It’s incredibly ironic that it’s titled Remember Me when he is now dying of Alzheimer’s.

Back in the 90’s he had invested himself in ancient coins, famous signatures, and old fossils and artifacts of ancient civilizations while he had told me I needed a husband to take care of me and I always needed to lose five more pounds. But while he did those things, he also bought my cousins their first cars, he helped my visionary philanthropist Uncle Charlie with his start up not for profit Heart to Honduras that built houses and churches in remote Honduran villages, he taught literally thousands of people how Marriage Can Be Fun and gave people hope. He made kids laugh as they learned about Julius Caesar and Cleopatra, Alexander Hamilton and the duel, and the process of mummification. He was faithful to the love of his life, Lorna June Smith and took our family on amazing adventures around the world. He had a magic zest for life and I’m thankful I got to be in his circle of trust.

This song is a tribute to my Daddy, King Jon, Dr Kardatzke. Eccentric, maddening, manic, hilarious, loving, GENEROUS and CREATIVE spirit who wasn’t afraid to say “I’m sorry I was wrong.” I love you Daddy…and you have left your touch, your imprint on my heart and on my children’s hearts.

Remember Me

The silver coin that bears the face of Ancient Greece

Once used to buy necessities now valued way beyond our needs

We cry Remember Me

An earthen vase crafted by worn and calloused hands

Now brings a price unheard of

for molded clay and sand

We cry Remember Me

Oh please Remember Me

When the human soul is soft as clay

And even a gentle touch leaves an eternal mark

Upon the heart

We make our idols trying to preserve ourselves

Cold images crude replicas collecting dust upon the shelves

We cry Remember Me

Oh please Remember Me

When the human soul is soft as clay and even a gently touch

Leaves an eternal mark upon the heart

In our quest to be remembered

We’ve forgotten who we are

God’s greatest prized creation worth the scars

The scars on His heart

He cries Remember Me oh please Remember Me

Remember me Will you Remember Me

Remember

This House

My brother and I just signed the closing contract on our childhood home. Our parents lived in that house for 51 years. We have many happy and some sad and troubling memories. I believe buildings hold a certain amount of presence of those who lived in them. Above all, I believe love built that house in 1969 and kept it alive.

My brother and I talked about how crazy some of our upbringing was, yet how loved we felt. The love is still predominant. The love makes everything else pale in comparison. The love burns away the imperfections.

“Most of all, love each other as if your life depended on it. Love makes up for practically anything” 1 Peter 4:8

Love is above all. Genuine love shines through all the pain, all of the mess. The kind of love that says, “I’m screwed up, I made so many mistakes, but I love you always and want you to grow beyond me and beyond this mess!” That’s the love I was blessed with. That’s the kind of love Mike and I have tried to pass on to our boys. There’s no such thing as a perfect family because there’s no such thing as a perfect person.

“for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God,”
‭‭Romans‬ ‭3:23‬ ‭

Genuine love says I love you anyway, regardless of your actions, in spite of my hurt feelings, Love says I will always, always love you even if you reject me. Love lets go of trying to control the outcome of the people involved. Love accepts defeat without anger. Love stands. Love is like a marker to remember what was, what is, and what will be. Love is eternal.

I’m so thankful for the home I grew up in. My parents loved God, loved each other, and loved us, and we knew it, we felt it in our beings. Our house had a spirit of love and grace and I pray that spirit will bless its new inhabitants many times over. A house is never just a house. Its walls absorb years of emotions and conversations, and hold the underlying motives of its inhabitants. This house was not built on perfection, but it was built on love.

“Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.”
‭‭1 John‬ ‭4:8‬ ‭

The Glass Castle

Mike and I watched The Glass Castle last week. I haven’t read the book but the movie was unsettling. Woody Harrelson brilliantly portrays Rex Walls, father of four, vacillating between intelligent and inspiring dreamer and irresponsible and neglectful alcoholic. The story is a memoir of the second oldest child, Jeanette, and centers around her love/hate relationship with her erratic parents.

Rex educates his children in unconventional yet often exciting ways, teaching them physics and geology through the world around them. His enthusiasm and zest for life are infectious not only to his children but to the viewer as well. This aspect of him strongly reminded me of my own dad, “King Jon”, and I felt a kinship with Jeanette as she idolized him. His dream was to build a “glass castle,” a home with glass walls and ceilings and ever changing architectural plans. His children hung on his every word when they were young, believing he could and would do everything he ever dreamed up. As they mature, they readily see the darkness of his addiction and how his denial is stronger than his talent. Yet the love between them all is genuine and as 1 Peter 4:8 says, “Love covers over a multitude of sins.”

The whole movie keeps the viewer on a rollercoaster of emotion, and I began to see how many of us try to categorize people as good or evil, but being human we are all a blend of both. The hope and the goal to strive for is that our good outweighs the bad, but many of us struggle and looking through an honest lens can see we often run 50/50. Addiction tips the scales, and Rex loses the respect of and communication with his daughter Jeanette. Eventually, she visits him and forgives him before his untimely death.

While my own father was much more consistent and nurturing, I felt the tug of war Jeanette’s heart was experiencing. I think most of us go through a time in childhood of equating our dads to God and our belief and trust is stronger than any evidence. As we grow in discernment we see the flaws in those we once deemed as gods. Disillusionment, disappointment, and anger accompany such knowledge, and we then must reevaluate our own values and beliefs. Hopefully relationships are healthy enough to grow through respectful and honest communication. I’m so thankful I got to have those hard conversations with my dad. I “held his feet to the fire” as I cried in brokenness and he took the heat and apologized for the mistakes he made. He showed such strength in being vulnerable and I love him more than ever because of it. I can only hope my own boys will challenge me in such a way and I will be ready with the same openness and vulnerability. Love, genuine love really does “cover over a multitude of sins” as it shines light through our glass castles, revealing our innermost fears and flaws.