I had a very involved father who was also very flawed. To my mother’s dismay, he saved every paper cup he ever got at Starkbucks so he could shoot at them. When I emptied his house, I discovered he kept every scrap he ever wrote on too. He always kept filling his gas tank until the dollars and cents ended on a even number. He tore up Momma’s washcloths so he could get his finger in the hem to wash every spot on his body.
But he loved me. Just before he died he told me how much he adored me and let me know he was ready to go to glory. I miss those expressions of love more than I expected.
However, what about those who didn’t have a father? Today I have Author Fay Lamb. Her latest novel centers on recovering from a father wound, just like she had to do. She shares how she recovered.