I was feeling a bit nostalgic this morning in my way to work..and I guess I just feel like venting, so feel free to back out of this thread if you'd like.
I was raised as a JW since I was seven yrs. old. I'm the only girl out of four kids. We were the "ideal" witness family..my Dad was an elder, mom stayed home and waited for us to get home from school, all of us kids pioneered and got to go to pioneer school. Our family was even used a lot in symposiums for assemblies, and I had quite a few parts at assemblies too. Dad would comment how proud he was of us kids.
Time went on and I married a JW man, thinking that I found my Mr. Wonderful. He was everything to me and I help him on a pedestal. To me nobody could ever compare to him. I couldn't do enough to make him happy and show him how much I loved him... That soon changed after our wedding. He became abusive, mostly with words to the point that I became feeling numb..like a robot going through the motions of being a good christian wife, and tried to raise our two children with a plastic smile painted on my face.
My parents never knew of this...they too thought my husband was great christian man. I didn't want to burden them or dissapoint them in any way, plus I was protecting my husband's reputation. This was my war...my fight. My parents eventually moved out of state, as did my brothers. I felt lonelier than I have ever felt.
Dad eventualy had a massive heart attack and was diagnosed with Congestive Heart failure. I re-located and moved closer to them. During this time I was going through my divorce, and this dissapointed Dad tremendously and I could see it in his eyes each time I looked at him, because witnessed could not get divorced without scriptual grounds. He wasn't proud of me anymore, and this really hurt and it cut right through me. My Dad was never a man to show his feelings, much less say, "I love you". How I wanted to hear those words from him so deperately! He took a turn for the worse and needed a triple-heart bipass. After surgery I visited him many times, rembering that the doctors said the firs 48 hrs. were the most cucial. One one visit, 30 hrs. after his surgery, the doctors told us how very well he was doing and they planned to remove all the tubes he had attached to him the very next day. How relieved I was! I held my Dad's hand, and I could feed a slight squeeze..I said, "Goodnight Dad, I'll see you tomorrow. I love you" I kissed his balding head, the one I gave a hair cut to the day before surgery. He looked at me with tired eyes and knodded every ever so slightly. I think he was trying to tell me he loved me too.
I went home that night, and as soon as I got home, I got a call from the hospital. My Dad had become worse and they were calling the family in. My the time I got there, Dad had passed away.
I will always carry the pain of knowing the dissapointment I had caused my Dad and never hearing the words "I love you", but I hope that that very night he tried to tell me...I'll never know.