Tracing the steps of my life as it crosses the bridge from all about me to all about Jesus.

“And its you when I look at the mirror and it’s you when I don’t answer the phone”

MY DAD IS REALLY ILL.  He isn’t going to live much longer.

These are the 18 words from the song this post is named after by U2 that goes the deepest right now.

U2 is already the soundtrack of my life and now this one joins the list of deeply attacked to my soul.

In many ways my dad and Bono’s dad are not the same but it sounds like we both had the same relationships with our fathers.  My father is a good man

not a drunk, never cheated, never violent but he was a work-a-holic.  He also was hard to please and impress.  Making him notice you is a an accomplishment for sure.

Theatre was important to me.  It was the air I breathed.  My dad saw exactly 2 of my plays.  1 HS, 1 College.  He never attended a show I got paid for. (even if live theatre wages can hardly be counted as income)

I am adopted but if you see a family picture you would wonder if I just lied to you.  My dad and I look very much alike.  I can see him in the mirror.

You think I am opinionated and stubborn, meet my father.   Sometimes I wonder if I am really that way or if it was a survival skill I learned.  Being able to debate, and respect the person you debate and disagree with was one way to get my fathers appreciation.

He loved story and some actors.  That is where I got my love for acting.  It wasn’t that he wasn’t proud or he thought I was untalented that he didn’t come to my shows or refused to even fill out financial aid for theatre schools.  It was that he thought if he discouraged me he could save me the hurt of an unstable career.  Instead he hurt me and damaged our relationship.   Eventually Christ showed me where He was in that and emotionally healed me and restored our relationship but this is a picture of the life I have knows with him.

He won’t really let us help.  He is a different man now.  My mother, sister and brother are exausted.   I fly home on the 9th for just a few days to spend what most likely will be his last birthday.

He won’t let me help.

Maybe there is nothing I could do anyhow.

He won’t let me take some of the punches and so when the caller ID lights up his name I send it to voice mail.  I can’t talk to him right now and it kills me

it hurts.  This song is my words to him, because right now emotion is to high and I just don’t have words better then Bono’s

 

 

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