It's my late dad's birthday today...
and I feel the pull of grief to slow down, to feel, to allow the sadness of his passing and the sadness of his life to visit and sit with me for a while.
I want to share some insights that have emerged, knowing that many others have also experienced complex relationships with their fathers. Perhaps my words, thoughts, or emotions will resonate with you, sparking healing and empowerment in your own precious life.
I loved my dad so much.
There was a feeling of depth and a profound understanding between us — an unspoken appreciation, an ancient bond, a soul connection that felt uniquely vast.
But there was also an overwhelming sadness that permeated our relationship.
We both recognized that there was something special, yet finding the right words to describe this indescribable bond remains a challenge for me.
My husband believes it has to do with being a "love child," and perhaps he's right.
If you want to hear me say the story, click on the video below. Otherwise continue reading under the video...
It feels that my being is rooted and originated in the desperate kind of love that my dad and mom shared at the time of my conception
and that my body, heart and nervous system somehow captured and encapsulated that quality between them. It's as if this energy became frozen in time, and it's slowly melting at the core of my very DNA as I'm healing and emerging on the journey of self-love.
My dad was so young and inexperienced when I entered his life. At 19 years old, he was determined to be a good father and to provide more than enough. He wanted to give me everything I needed to survive and thrive. And he gave himself fully to this task. He immersed himself in this mission so much that he disappeared beneath the overwhelming task and there was not much left of him available for an exchange of love.
It was confusing for my little heart and mind as I was growing up.
The way I understand it now is that it's not that there was 'no love'.
It's more that there was a vast and deep love, but it was imprisoned inside his heart. It was stuck love. He was so overworked in his desperate attempt to prove that he can provide more than enough that he had no time or energy left for connection, or other emotional ways to express and share his love.
So love was suffering silently inside his fear-protected, defended heart. He didn't speak it. He didn't show it. He didn't embody it. He just worked hard.
And he was more and more hurt, and frustrated, and his heart started showing the signs.
And he died of a broken heart.
Five years have passed since his passing, and it is only recently that I have begun to feel the freedom to speak to him once more. For so long, I had become used to not communicating, keeping everything inside, or speaking to him without receiving answers, sensing the frozen silence that hung between us As if he was very very far... that it didn't even occur to me that I could try... until a healer pointed it out to me.
So, I poured out my heart. I allowed the stuck words to flow freely and honestly. I felt permitted and even invited. It felt like now, finally, he had the time.
I cannot explain what happens scientifically when we visit the realms of imagination, but it felt like he was listening and we could understand each other.
I used to be so scared of upsetting him, that I never wanted to tell him any of my upsets when I was a child. I was not scared that he would hurt me,
I was scared of causing him sadness, because I sensed how hard he tried to be good... to be good enough.
My dear dear Father. My Father's Heart... to be good enough... A Broken heart... Imprisoned Love. Stuck love that broke his Heart.
Like a seed pushing through the earth, cracking the hard soil as it sprouts.
I wonder what comes up for you now?
Embracing the power of healing and reconnecting with your father can bring more sustainable inner peace, freedom, harmony, and purpose into your life.
Deep love,
Ildiko <3I