The Fixer

Some childhood memories are fun and filled with laughter. Some are dark and filled with pain. Sometimes they are filled with both laughter and pain... It was a binding moment in my life. One I have carried in my heart of hearts since I was 11 years old. Thirty years later I still find myself lugging it around. I'm tired of worrying over it. Today, I am going to try to lay it down for good.

I had never known what a mid-life crisis was. That's the sort of thing you just can't explain to a child. But I saw the effects of it - it shattered my sheltered world and my perception of security. My mom, my sisters, and I had been out of town at Grandma's - my most favorite place in the world! I should have noticed it when I walked in our house... the air was different somehow. Not deep and robust anymore but shallow and vapid. I can't remember how I ended up in my mom and dad's room but there I was. Staring into their closet. Wire hangers that had previously held my dad's work clothes now hung there empty and cold. No shoes in the closet floor. Half-open dresser drawers once stuffed with socks, t-shirts and such now cavernous and starving. Suddenly, my mom was behind me, grabbing a letter from the top of the dresser with her name on it. She sat down on the edge of the bed as if the weight of the world had suddenly been flopped on her back. She read it silently. My older sister came in the room followed by my little sister.
"Dad's gone."
Gone? From what?
"When's he coming back?" I asked.
"I don't know." the hollow reply.

Most of my memories from that time are fragile and broken. A short time after that homecoming, I can remember standing behind our burnt orange la-Z-boy recliner, hanging forward over the back of it with my arms gently pounding the soft quilted upholstery, when a Commodores song came on... "Three Times A Lady". I don't know if it was on the TV or radio. But it made my mom cry. A heart-piercing, sorrowful cry. And I couldn't take it. I had to make it better. I tried to make her smile or laugh or something... just not be in pain anymore. Because in my eleven year old world, if a dad can leave - then a mom can too. If mom was really sad would she leave too? I didn't want to be left alone in a world without her or my dad.... And somehow that day, I appointed myself the "fixer" of the family. Crazy antics, jokes, smiles and funny gesturing. Anything it took to make my family happy. There were times that it just didn't work. But, oh, the times that it did were a confirmation that I was on the right track keeping everyone's frail feelings on the brink of laughter.

Now, I - The Fixer - am now confronted with things that I can't fix. Wounds I can't heal. Sorrows I can't mend. Diagnosis' that I can't change. Fears I can't subdue. So now what? Like my Grandma used to say, "I'm wound up tighter than an eight day clock." Under the weight of all the things I can't fix, I am becoming unwound, emotionally and physically. And God has revealed that open sore in my heart carried around by that 11 year old little girl. I am not the fixer... He is. I can't heal wounds - but He can. I can't mend sorrows -  but He can. He knew that diagnosis before the foundation of the world... He's not surprised by it and gives peace through it if I will take it. I am fearful of things I cannot change but He never changes. I can't be the fixer - as much as I want to be. God says He will carry it ... but I have to let Him. He says to cast all my cares on Him but I have to do the casting. He gives me the option to pick it back up anytime I choose. But it causes my knees to buckle and my heart to hurt. I am not the fixer.

I have long since forgiven my dad. I love him and wouldn't be who I am without his role in my life. We all make mistakes and where would I be if I had never been forgiven of all my downfalls and bad decisions? He's back at home with mom. They are probably sitting in the living room watching a western... I don't have to worry about being left alone anymore. That fear that has seemed a bottomless pit in my life for a  long time. But God has opened my eyes and really let me see the exquisite gift He has given me- my family. A husband that loves me and three magnificent children. I'm not going to be alone.

A lot of life has happened in the last thirty years... and there's a lot more to live. I'm going to let that 11 year old little girl go home to play. She doesn't have to fix it anymore. God's got that all under control.