Mixed Feelings

This past week, I was blessed to join some of my siblings and their families to honor the 40th anniversary of our father’s passing. We were also joined by many of my father’s family and our friends to celebrate this wonderful man. To be honest, it has been a remarkably long 40 years. A lot has happened. Family dynamics have changed. We have lost loved ones and gained new loved ones through marriages and childbirth.

Not a single moment passes without a thought about him and how different life could’ve been. It often scares me to even think about the idea of having him around because I suspect his questions would sound like, "Are you living into the vision that God has for you?" Or something along the lines of, "Are you being generous enough or faithful enough?" Vision, generosity, and faithfulness sum up his life story.

I am not sure of his prayers for each child, but I believe he prayed that each of his twenty-three children may carry with them their vision for themselves, his sense of generosity, and his deep faith.

Celebrating his life was a true honor, and I will never forget the immense joy that his children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, family, and friends felt at the special requiem Mass held in his memory. It was our token of appreciation to a man who has shaped and impacted the lives of so many.

Like every single one of God’s beloved children who were all created good, we are said to be flawed. Not that we are defective objects - far from that. We are human beings who, because of what St. Augustine refers to as the Original Sin, are imbued with the capacity to do the unimaginable.

And so, buried deep within his supposed flaws, we can tell the story of an African man who tried as hard as he could to reconcile the juxtaposition of the traditional African culture into which he was born with his Christian values. Was he successful in his effort? I will leave that judgment to God because it is God alone who can pass judgment. But one thing I do not do is make apologies for him. I will not and I dare not.

As all his children who made it to the celebration stood behind and beside one of our brothers who read a tribute, for the very first time in my life, I didn’t notice any flaws in my father’s life. What I saw was beauty. It was a beauty to see his children stand together to honor a man who was simply faithful. Yes, he was a faithful man. And I am proud to call him my father.

Strangely enough, it was at the same time that I had those mixed feelings. Some of our siblings who live in Ghana were unable to attend the celebration. I don’t know why. And it would be presumptuous on my part to speculate about the rationale for their absence. I believe that they should have been there to feel that sense of joy, not only for themselves but for the man we all called Big Man. Here’s a text that spoke to me while I reflected on their absence:

“Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity!”

I do not doubt that the uniqueness of the rainbow lies in the fact that all the different colors are held in unison, together.

Indeed, each color, like each sibling, is different. And one color alone doesn’t represent all the colors or convey the beauty of all the colors. I don’t know what holds all these different colors together, but it is that same gift that should hold all brethren together. If I can look at the rainbow and call it beautiful, I can also look at all my siblings standing together and call that sight beautiful.

Truth is, it is unapologetically easy to dismiss those who don’t want to play ball; after all, neither their presence nor absence makes any difference. But the reality is, it is the lack of unity that diminishes each of us, not the event itself, but each of us-those who were present and those who weren’t.

Family Systems Theory helps us understand that there are different types of families, and that within the eight concepts developed by Dr. Murray Bowen, there’s the idea that we cannot understand individuals in isolation; rather, their thoughts, feelings, and actions are deeply influenced by their family relations.

The eight concepts certainly don’t address the uniqueness of the family system I'm discussing, but there’s no escaping the fact that some individuals may have been aggrieved over one issue or another, and more importantly, carry those grievances with them.

As debilitating and corrosive as carrying these grievances may be, people carry them and hold on to them as if they are defined by them. But no one grievance or two should be enough to dampen your spirit over the human saga. Please be assured that the human story is as complex as anything you can imagine, and holding on to any grievances is the last thing you want to do. You and I have no business adding to the complications of the world and of our lives. 

That, in fact, explains why letting go is so freeing, liberating, and salvific for the human spirit and our individual thriving. To let go, to forgive, is to feel yourself alive again. It is to feel at peace with everyone and with nature. It is to feel yourself being lifted, not by the currents of who has done what to you, but by the calm currents of a love that overlooks all wrongs. Listen to what one author said:

"If we are to have any hope of peace in this world, we must master the art of forgiveness."

In one of my remarks, I indicated that at the time when my father passed away, no system was in place to help people, especially kids, with grieving. And so, as a kid, I had to learn how to grieve on my own. But it often feels to me that I am still grieving my father’s passing. The most fulfilling part of my grieving process was that this past weekend’s celebration was a moment to honor, celebrate, and reconnect with everyone.

I deeply believe in seeing everyone because everyone is worth seeing. And so, as resplendent as the service was, as fantastic as the party was, as nostalgic as the video of his funeral was, I have mixed feelings because I didn’t see everyone who should’ve been there.

But guess what Rumi said:

“If everything around seems dark, look again, you may be the light.”

To me, those who carry with them the grace of a reconciling and comforting spirit are often the light in the dark places of our lives. My father was a light. And you too can be a light.

I think I can get over the mixed feelings because tomorrow opens the door to retelling life’s story all over again, and the possibility of seeing everyone again. Thank you, Dad!

Manny+