Fatherhood, Love and Healing. by Henry Amador-Batten
photo: AwakeningTimes I can't remember when it happened, when I stop expecting to see my father. I remember far away moments, looking out into an audience or across a room or at either side of friends and family members only to see a vacant seat. I remember distant conversations with my mom finding excuse after excuse for him. He tried honey, he would have, he really wanted to be here, he’ll make it up to you, he must have gotten tied up, you know how busy daddy is and on and on. It’s funny how much we believe those little white lies, how much we need to believe them, right? So much so that each one comforts you long enough until the next one is required by our little forming brains and hearts. Long enough to stretch out time and space. Long enough that you no longer really believe them but still want to hear them and then long enough that there are no expectations left that really matter. Just a