Tonight, as I was cleaning the living room, I came across an old CD that my sister and I used to listen to with my dad. It was a CD full of ballroom tracks that triggered memories from when I was a child. My dad would come home, and play the CD, and take my sister and I, and dance with us. I decided to play it, and my dad and I just started laughing about the silly ways we used to dance and began to relive those moments. Of course, when I was a child, I had absolutely no sense of direction, nor did I have any idea what ballroom dancing was, but dancing wasn’t the thing that made the memory. It was dancing with my father.
Now, I’m sure everyone has a sweet memory from their childhood with their father, their mother, their grandparents, their siblings, or any loved one that when you see, hear, feel, or taste something that triggers the memory, it’s like you’re stuck in some kind of nostalgia that you just never want to let go of.
Now, I find that the father making these kinds of memories with me is no longer just my dad, but my Father from above. In worship, He dances with me… in the celebration of the Holy Eucharist, He romances me by telling me that I am loved and out of that love, through body and blood, we unite. He holds me in adoration, and even if it may be only an hour or two, His love never fails envelop my heart and break any chains that try to bind me in doubt. And even in my sinfulness, He continues to call me… and I am blessed to be baptised with a renewed spirit each time I come to Him in Reconciliation… And just like that, I can run back to Him each time, as a child to her father.
My Father, through simple acts and simple ways, continues to build memories with me on this earth. It is in these memories of love that when I sin, I cannot wait to come to Him in repentance because I remember how fresh I feel, baptised with His Spirit. It is through these memories that when I eat, no matter what it is, I am blessed because with my Father, it is in food as simple as Bread that he chooses to unite Himself in me in His house. It is through these growing memories that in song, I can close my eyes and lift my hands in praise, knowing that as soon as I do, He is there, ready to meet me and take me in His arms in a loving stride… a dance in secret that only He and I can ever feel and see.
It is in these memories, memories of BOTH my fathers, that I know joy…
I know peace…
I know love…
And it is in these memories that I can say:
“I love you, Dad,”
“I love you, Father.”
And it is also through these memories that even before I am married, I have met my greatest romance.
I love you, Lord!
I love you, Dad!
:’)