ok, ok….I hear you?

My dad has taught me a bunch of things; how to change the brakes on my truck, the way to replace a toilet, understanding the inner workings of caring for a home and, basically, that I can figure out most anything that I could pay someone to do for me (and if I needed some obscure tool to do whatever it was, it was probably in the garage).

My father grew up in a circumstance that required resourcefulness above anything else. There wasn’t much to go around other than to be hard working and make due the best way possible. The experience and challenges he lived through in his formative years, shaped the way he would bring of himself to his family; to provide for us as best as he could regardless of the work it took of him so that we wouldn’t experience, first hand, what he did. As he worked and worked and worked to give us the things he went without growing up, he also focused on empowering my brother and I with a mentality that helped us believe we were smart enough and capable enough to learn how to do anything and to not be dependent upon others. To him, like many, knowledge is power. But, even further to that, he knew that being confident in yourself to find the knowledge and use that knowledge, was even greater power.

As a fully functioning and contributing adult (although, I’m sure still a smart mouth eighteen year old in his eyes), there’s not really much teaching going on anymore. Sure, he’s there to help in a moment’s notice or answer a question about hot water tanks or thermostats, but I figure he recognizes my brother and I are running our own lives and we’re doing ok. Not to mention, he’s been there for us more times than anyone could ever expect; even when I was that smart mouth eighteen year old. He’s done his part.

And yet, much to my surprise and I’m sure without him even knowing, he recently taught me one of the biggest lessons I’ve learned in quite some time; when true emotion is felt, people communicate the best way they know possible and it is real and sincere.

A little while ago, my dad and I had a moment. Not a warm, feely moment, but the other kind. As said moment was unfolding, my awareness could see what was about to happen and I responded in a manner I’d never done before when going toe-to-toe with him. I felt positive and, more importantly, at peace with how I handled things. And, save the details, for all intents and purposes, I was probably due an apology. But, if history was any sort of predictor of the future, I knew there wasn’t one coming.

Not too long thereafter, at a family event, as I was saying goodbye to both he and my mom, he said something to me as I hugged him. It took me about a day to finally realize and say, “oh shit! That was his apology”, but I said, “Oh shit! That was his apology”.

What he said doesn’t matter and, in truth, it wasn’t anything that will forever go down in poetic lore. I didn’t realize at the time it was happening, but what he said was all he had the capacity to use as communication to convey what he felt. It was all he had the ability or the confidence or the courage, or whatever, to say to me to offer as reconciliation to what had happened the week prior. The thing is, because I know my father, because I know how he grew up, because I know where he came from, because I know how he works, I realized that it wasn’t for me to expect more from him. It was my responsibility to understand what he was trying to say. It was my responsibility to translate his communication because he, himself, could not translate it. He could not translate it from what it felt like in his Heart to what it should sound like with his voice. But, it was real and it was sincere.

And so, I am empowered with a new perspective toward receiving communication. I am empowered with not just hearing or not hearing the words I might expect to hear from someone, but to understand and interpret and feel what is being put out there. We all don’t communicate the same. We all don’t have the same experiences. We all don’t have the same ability to convey what’s really in our Heart to translate in a way that reflects that. I’ve learned that there’s more to just hearing and listening, there’s feeling. We feel what we feel, we say what we feel and we feel what we say. But, how often do we feel what someone else is saying or even not saying? And, I don’t mean us feeling what it is, but feeling it as though we were them. That is what feeling someone else’s Heart is. That is truly opening your own Heart to theirs. That is connection. That is compassion.

Thanks, Dad. You’ve done more than I, myself, may ever have the words to express.

Be Love.