I don’t do birthdays or Christmas, but death I do (now at least).

A few years ago I lost dear old Dad.  As I’ve said in many blog entries, speaking engagements & one-on-one contexts, “Dad” was a sexual abuser to me for about 10 years and then spent over half my life in prison for the crime.  After he died I found out not only did he betray me by fabricating a story to his side of the family saying my mother lied about the abuse for revenge, but I was the only kid -of several- he left out of his life insurance policy.

I’ve put a tremendous amount of effort in forgiving him over the years, but I must say his death was still a hard thing to face despite the fact that world suddenly felt safer without him in it.

After my Dad died I got a few cards in the mail…

• One was from an InterVarsity Staff who works and lives in Ohio whom I see maybe 2-3 times a year.  His name is Marc Papai.
• One was from one of my Western students at the time.  His name is Stephen Wingard.
• One was from my mother.  And the other was on behalf of the congregation of the Church we were attending at the time.

For reasons beyond what I am able to explain, the cards these 3 people sent me were incredibly meaningful.

Plain & simple: I felt loved.

In fact, I still have them.  They are tucked away in a file I keep of important letters and cards I’ve gotten over the years.  A file I would grab if my house were burning down & I had 5 minutes, along with Ransom’s scrapbook.

Each card had a personal note expressing love, concern and kindness in their own personal way.

After a year or two went by, I realized all of the people I didn’t get cards from when Dad bit the dust.  Of all my best friends, all of my InterVarsity family, all of my students, all of my staff team, why didn’t anyone else send me a card???  (Sure sure, I got emails & calls, etc.  And please don’t feel bad if your personal friend of mine –not the intent of this blog at all)!

I started thinking about the nature of my relationship with my Dad.  I’m sure most people thought, “heck, she’s probably glad he’s dead.”  And while that is true, his loss -despite the drama & dysfunction- was hard on me.  I felt sad and scared and empty and wounded and confused as anyone else losing a parent.  But I was able to understand why more cards weren’t sent, mostly because I reason the same way.

What on earth do you say to a woman whose father was a sexual abuser, was blatantly un-repentant and betrayed her in death as much as he did in life?  That’s a toughie.

In some ways Marc, Stephen & my mother transformed the way I look at the whole Hallmark business of sending-a-card-on-every-last-occasion.  Now, not everything about me will change…

I can tell you with 100% certainty you’ll never get a Christmas card from the Biskies.  (Until we don’t have to send out a giant 300+ mass mailing that sometimes takes us over 40-50 hours to coordinate and pull together amidst the scurry of Christmas shopping, family get-togethers and raising year end fund-raising support… you can bet your bottom dollar, I do not have it in me to also pull together a Christmas letter or Christmas cards –it’s NOT personal).

I can also sadly say, you will probably never get a birthday card from me.  I’m too unorganized, I don’t have a clear & consistent calender for tracking birthdays, I’m last minute, I’m triflin’ and I’m forgetful.  It’s just not going to happen… it’s NOT personal).

Suffice it to say, your not going to get Easter cards & anniversary cards or any other cards from me… EXCEPT…

Because of Marc, Stephen & my mother in the last few years, I have been making a solid and successful effort at sending cards to those who have lost loved ones, whether I perceive them to have a good or a downright awful relationship with the person who passed away.

Death is different.

With a few folks who lost their baby or their spouse, I also sent a book called A Grace Disguised by Jerry Sittser which I find to be one of the premier books out there on human loss & grief.

A dear friend of mine lost his sister yesterday and the 1st thing I did was wipe my schedule so I could get him a hand written card in the mail.

If I can make other people feel even half as loved as Marc, Stephen & my mother made me feel, it’s well worth the effort.