I remember that my father always had black licorice in an orange and yellow canister at his house when we visited on weekends. I remember that he brought me wrestling magazines when I was hospitalized for a kidney infection in junior high. I remember that the bed I had at his house had one of those bookshelf headboards with secret cubby doors that you could hide all sorts of treasures in. I remember that he collected coins and gemstones. I remember that I once found an antique diamond ring while walking with him through a park. Sadly, though I do not remember ever hearing him say "I love you." Click here to read more.
I've learned this same lessson, but not of forgiving my dad, rather someone else in my life that I could never forgive for the wrongs she did... one day, and yes, it was at church, it hit me and I have come to forgive her and my relationship with the Lord has grown since that day!
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