My life was looking up. Things were going well between my
girlfriend and me and our kids got along well together. I asked them to move in. A short time later I asked her to be my wife. She wanted the big
church wedding complete with white dress and reception that she did not get to
have her first go around. I wanted to make her happy. We began planning and ran smack dab into
our first challenge.
She wanted to get married in a church, as did I, but she had
never belonged to any church before. I have an issue with using someone’s
building without giving them patronage. To me it doesn’t matter if it is a gas
station bathroom or, in this case, a church. I insisted that if she wanted to
get married in a church that she find a church she liked and become a member.
Which church to choose? There are so many. She did not know
one faith from another. The only church out of the question was the Catholic
Church. She didn’t know anything about it but she knew they had rules and no
one was going to tell her how she should live her life.
Our kids played sports at a nearby Central Christian Church
and she had attended a few services there with a friend. They had a modern
service for the young kids and a more traditional service for the older crowd.
She thought it would be perfect and asked if I wanted to join that church.
She was a bit surprised when I told her no. It was ok with
me if she wanted to join but I could not. She asked me why and I said because I
am Catholic. She could not understand this. I had not been in a Catholic Church
for almost a decade and in her mind all churches were basically the same. I
tried to explain that, to me, faith was like a blood type. I was Catholic and
that was something I was not capable of changing.
She really wanted to begin a faith life and she wanted to do
it as a family. If I wouldn’t join any of the protestant churches then neither
would she. Seeing she wouldn’t join the Catholic Church we were at an
impasse. Instead of throwing in the
towel she searched for a compromise.
About two weeks later she called me and asked if I would
consider getting married in a little country chapel that performed marriages
and funerals and had services but no membership. I was familiar with the chapel
she was talking about. It was the chapel we had my step-sister’s funeral
in. It was beautiful and reverent,
respectful and graced with the spirit of the Lord. The pastor was a
traditionally ordained protestant minister. It was the perfect compromise. The
date was set, the dress bought, invitations sent. We were on our way to making
this a legal family.
Four months before the wedding my father died. I was
devastated although I couldn’t show it. I was my father’s oldest and his only
son. It was my duty to be the rock for my sisters and his wife. I swallowed as
much of the grief as I possibly could and through tear filled eyes I laid my
father to rest. On one hand I was happy that he was no longer in pain. He spent
far too long bearing his cross of medical problems, never complaining, while
bringing smiles to all who cared for him. On the other hand I mourned the loss
of one of my greatest inspirations and teachers. A man I deeply respected and
loved. I was lost.
Grief buried deep and not expressed can go rancid becoming
toxic and poison the soul. This happened to me and has been the demon I have
had to battle ever since. I lost my passion and direction in life. Everything
was viewed from the negative and I became very easy to anger. I was in borderline
despair. How my wife has been able to endure me is beyond my comprehension.
I wanted to give my bride-to-be the perfect wedding. When
viewed through the prism of the negative nothing went according to plan. The
tux, the limo, the centerpieces, the reception hall, my wedding party –
everything had problems. Even the day upset me. When I should have been over
the moon because I was marrying my best friend I was angry because instead of a
bright shining day we got severe thunderstorms and tornadoes that kept over
half of the guests away. It was a hot and humid June day and when we arrived at
the reception hall we found the air conditioning not working as well as it
should have. One of the misunderstandings during this time led to me breaking
off ties with my best man and cousin and not talking to him for over two years.
It is time I will never get back and a relationship I will never be able to
fully repair.
We were married and despite my problems I have a family that
is flourishing. It’s not without its challenges, the biggest being me, but God
continues to bless my life and draw me nearer to him. It was time to return
home.
 |
| 5:00PM - June 7th, 2008 (Yes...that's 5, 6, 7, 8...) |
