# Dad loses his courage and faith.   784 words



## Plasticweld (Nov 7, 2014)

_I wrote this as a second part to "The Day my Father Broke"  it is intended for my niece who is struggling with the death of her Dad.  My  little brother Dave passed away  a little over a year ago from a brain tumor.  He was a Pastor in a large church, he and I both shared a common ministry with the CSBA.   This is written for Amie who is a Christian but struggling with the  loss of her Dad, she is 15.  I wanted to share some of what I went through with her and  leave behind something for the family records.  I have been reading my grandfathers diary and it as instilled in me a desire to pass on some of this type of information.   Any help is appreciated in cleaning this up or pointing out any problems.  Thanks for reading . I am trying to bring a little hope and sunshine, in what may appear to be a dismal situation for my niece.  I credit my positive out look in life on the difficult stuff that has happened... But I am a hopeless optimist  

_
                                                                          Dad loses his courage
                                                                                                                                     By Bob Brown




Cold is the absence of heat.  You don’t chill things, you just remove the heat.  The same can be said for courage.  It is just an absence of fear, or the ability to move forward, despite it. 

My father was a big man, 6’4” and 250 pounds.  In my eyes, at the age of seven, he was only a small step away from being Superman.   In the months after Christine died he would crumble, his kryptonite was her death.  He did not become weak overnight; he found strength in a bottle of Vodka.   There is no normal, after the death of a child, only another day, sometimes that is enough.   Time does heal things, if you let it.  My father didn’t.   He remained stuck in that one terrible moment, dwelling on it and blocking out everything else. 

I lost not only a sister, but a father; he was still there, just not the same.   The same alcohol that dulled the loss of his daughter also dulled all his other senses.   Sunday mornings had always been a special time for my father and me; we got up early for Mass at St. Augustine’s.   This was something we did together, just us.   We continued to go for a few months, more out of habit than anything else.   Like many of the other things he did, he just went through the motions.   My father, who had helped bring me to my faith, now seemed to be questioning his. 



My faith did not falter, nor did my mother’s.   I am not sure where faith comes from, I only know that we were both comforted by God during this time.   It would be easy to rationalize any part of this, as way to explain how the same tragedy would bring some closer to God and cause others to reject him.   I do know it takes courage to have faith, to trust in something you can’t touch but only feel in your heart.   I also know firsthand what it looks like when you lose both.  

The marriage between my parents failed.  It took years before it disintegrated and crashed;  As in any car wreck, it is not hard to piece together the steps that lead to the obvious, after the fact.   Our family was broken, the man who was supposed to lead, no longer wanted the job.   There was a growing distance between my father and me as I matured.   I became more confident and outgoing; he turned inward and became bitter.  

***

I would grow up to be the opposite of my father, maybe it was an act of defiance.  What I could not deny were the results of the path I chose.   I did not become courageous overnight; I put my fears aside, little by little.   I relied on my faith the same way, in small steps.   I ignored that inner voice that told me “don’t.”   That little knot that you get in your stomach, that little bit of doubt; I pushed past that.   I became addicted to the feeling of triumph when I beat that queasy feeling and self-doubt.    

One of the most difficult things I have learned how to do is care about other people.  To be a good friend, to be in a position where you can help someone else, you have to put yourself in a vulnerable position.   You have to be willing to be hurt or really disappointed to be able to form a bond with someone.   Playing it safe, not revealing your true self, will never gain you the ability to share with others.   Yes you’re going get bruised, but how often do you hear someone say. “I wish I had more true friends, people that care about me?”   It starts with caring about them first. 

 My faith has sustained me through all of life’s troubles; it has given me the confidence to reach out to others.   I think we all get knocked down in life, no one is exempt.   When I see someone struggling, I have to reach out, let them know there is hope, and that I care. I am happy and confident, not because of what I can do, but by the strength I have found in Christ when I fall short.   The fear stopped my father.   The fear that prevented him reaching out to both God and others, does not exist in me.   It does take courage to step out in faith or just a simple lack of fear, to trust in God.   My father did teach me this, I truly wish it had been by his good example rather than his torment.  I am thankful for the lesson.



·         *Ephesians 2:8*

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith--and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God--


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## Deleted member 56686 (Nov 7, 2014)

It's a touching sentiment, Bob. It's amazing what can come out of you when you express your feelings from deep inside. 

My parents divorced when I was five. My relationship with my father since has never been especially close. For a period we didn't talk for years, for reasons of distance more than anything else.

Anyhow, I think it's good you have people around. Also remember that when you care abput others first, they not only care for you, they care for others as well. It's sort of like paying it forward, I guess.

Anyway just wanted you to know I have you in my thoughts, Bob :smile2:


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## Winston (Nov 29, 2014)

Good read.  I'll just say that much of what you wrote resonated with me.  And leave it at that.  

Thank you.


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## patskywriter (Nov 29, 2014)

I enjoyed this, but it did leave me with one question: How do you feel toward your father now? Do you love but feel sorry for him? Do you still need him as a father … or do you feel superior to him in every way? (It does sorta seem that you've left him behind.)


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## Plasticweld (Nov 30, 2014)

My father passed away about 14 years ago, to answer your question I guess I felt sorry for him, he was a guy who looked like he had it all, well educated, very well off financially, respected by his peers yet still seemed miserable because he did not see the simple things as clearly as I did; anymore than I saw the complex things that he dealt with in his professional life.  He had told me many times I he envied me and what I had.  I am sure I never once told him that in return.  I think in the end we both gained from each other.  He spent sometime discussing business with me, he was a financial wizard, I shared with him both my faith and out look on life which he seemed to appreciate more at the end of his life than in the middle or beginning.  I thought what he learned he learned to late and the die had been cast.   Many of the traits I have today are the opposite of what my father possessed, I have made the remark many times that I am thankful for what my father showed me, I wish it had been through example rather than by me saying, "I will never do that."


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## Winston (Nov 30, 2014)

From an objective perspective, this is why we don't reproduce asexually and just clone ourselves.

We take much from our parents.  Then we make our own lives.  It sounds like your dad had a lot of good attributes for you to emulate.  And, a few to leave with him.

I understand, but don't totally agree with your linkage of "courage" and "faith".  My father never had much of either, but that was just his nature.  I've stuffed my faith away recently, but I feel no less courageous than I have ever been.  
Faith does take courage.  But Faith also takes love.  When one feels unloved, all the courage in the world cannot fill that void.

You, your mother and your father deserved better.  But, as a (semi) neutral observer, I find it hard to fault your father.  But I do fault Him.


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## Plasticweld (Nov 30, 2014)

Winston I only fault him because it ruined him, if a small boy and a woman can survive and be healthy then he should have been able.  No son wants to see his father ever lose any battle. No one is without scars who goes through life.


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## Apex (Dec 1, 2014)

cc


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## Plasticweld (Dec 2, 2014)

Thank you for the kind words and support...Bob


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