February 11, 2015

Never Speak Ill

Saturday was the funeral for Dutchman's father.

It was nice to see all of the Dutchman's clan, except for one of Dutchman's sons, whom lives in Hawaii and seems too busy with his Amway business to honor his grandfather.  Well, no one was surprised, he is a very troubled young man and has been for a few decades.  We are talking psychopath level of dysfunction here.

All of the siblings were there, Swede and I, both have been involved with the family since October 1973, we were warmly welcomed.  And everyone stood around and yakked.  Everyone was paid attention to, except for the widow.  Yeah, I spent some time yakking with her.

She said that it was hard picking out what to bury him in (insert massive tears!), I told her the hard part was a few weeks from now (that is when traditionally no one in this culture any longer cares or remembers her loss - and now ignores her and her needs).  So, I asked her to please call and let me know how I can help.  (Insert more tears!)  Someone else eventually walked up so I could slip away from the crying female.  It is not that I do not have compassion for her loss, I just have no ability to identify with it.  Sigh ...

It was a touching memorial.  It was what was not said that resonated through out the hall.  He was the most violent man I have ever even heard of.  His BEAT his boys, Swede and I unmercifully.  His yard was a testimony to what happens when you take a sledgehammer to everything!  Yeah, nothing worked because he would smash it in his rages.  He forgets to put dishwasher soap in the dishwasher and the dishes come out dirty - yup, time for a sledgehammer!  (not joking!)

And then someone brought up his love for gardening ... And Kris, completely lost it.  I was snorting and laughing so hard and with no control at all!  Because, yes he loved gardening as long as Dutchman or I did the rototilling of the soil, hoeing, planting, weeding and watering - he liked to pick over vegetables in the sink ...  Yeah, he was not a gardener ...

The best gardening story had to be when his youngest son was 14, got drunk, stole his eldest brother's 4X4 and was giving a tour around their backyard to his friends.  Only problem was that he had never driven, my boat was stored in their yard and that was where the garden was as well.  The car went out of control, he literally cut my boat in half, then buried both axles of the 4X4 in the garden ...  His father was outraged that the garden, he had invested nothing in, was destroyed.  He literally beat the boy within an inch of his life, called up his son in Ecuador and reamed him out for storing that 4X4 at the house while he was on missionary assignment, and then it was my turn for daring to pay to store my boat at his house.  Sigh.

Welcome to life.

As I said, nothing ill was ever said.  Yet, it lay just below the surface.  The boys were all devastated.  I know that Dutchman had harbored in his heart the desire to reconcile one day with his father.  He had tried many times through the years, but he was never smart enough, never helpful enough, never what his father wanted.  And that was true with all of the boys.  And it showed in all of their grief.  They were gutted, not by his death, but by the knowledge that their father never said he loved them nor appreciated them and now never would.  Males of any age need to know that their father approves of them.

And now there is only emptiness.

I should remind my readers that this man did become a real Christian about 20 years ago.  He was a pretty awesome one at that.  Those whom did not know him before - could not understand.  Those damaged by the old him, well they had a hard time coming to terms with his change ... and at how that change did not bring any apology.

If there is a lesson to be learned, it is that everything we say or do has an impact on others.  The past, for better or worse, is going to haunt you.  If you can not make amends, well others will be damaged forever.  If you can, then you and others can grow past the problems.

Well and maybe giving your son, of any age a hug might be a good idea as well.  Look for the good in him - he lives in a culture which is more than happy to remind him he is a failure.....

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