Forgiving My Worthless Father

On this episode of Our American Stories, Leslie Leyland Fields tells us about the heart-breaking relationship between her and her father. And it's not what you'd expect.

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Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:10):
This is Lee Habib and this is our American stories,
and we are celebrating Father's Day all show long. Up next,
we have author Leslie leyland Fields. Leslie lives in Alaska's
Kodiak Island, an island community of fifteen thousand. He's written
numerous books, and you can learn more about her work
at Leslielelandfields dot com. This piece sharing with us today

(00:33):
is entitled for Giving My Worthless Father. Here's Leslie.

Speaker 2 (00:41):
I never called my father worthless. That was his own
word for himself. I had other words to describe him,
but in a way he was right. He said it
on the phone after I told him I was flying
down to see him from my home in Alaska to
the rehab facility Florida. My sister had flown down already

(01:03):
and was there with him. Now. Other siblings were coming later.
He had had a stroke the week before and now
could barely speak. I'll see you in about three weeks,
I said, trying to make my voice cheerful on the
phone to lift him from his misery. I'm not worth

(01:23):
he stumbled, of course, you're worth it. I protested, horrified,
but I knew instantly what he meant. In the human
balances of justice and fairness. He had done nothing to
deserve this kind of sacrifice and attention from his children.

(01:45):
He could not or would not hold a job, leaving
us deeply impoverished and ashamed. Throughout our childhood, he seemed
incapable of forming relationships and treated his children as though
we were in visible, except for the sexual abuse visited
upon some of us. Soon after we grew up and

(02:07):
left our house, he moved to Florida to live alone,
thousands of miles from his children. I was glad. I
saw my father three times in the next thirty years,
always me traveling thousands of miles to see him. I
went each time needy and hopeful that he would somehow

(02:30):
express interest in me, show some kind of affirmation. I
left each time hurt hollow. He would barely speak to me,
and when he did, he ridiculed my faith. The last
time I saw him, I resolved never to go back.
But eight years later I was gently pushing his wheelchair

(02:52):
down the hallway, sharing meals with him, watching TV in
his room, reading to him. In all of it, I
could not shake the injustice and inequity that every gift
and kindness given he had never shown to me ever.

(03:12):
But something else was even stronger, a desire to forgive.
I remembered what I believed that God had released me
from my debts against him, and I knew he required
me to do the same for those who owed me.
We are to forgive as we have been forgiven. Could

(03:34):
I not extend the freedom I had been given to him?
I began to try, moving slowly from what C. S.
Lewis calls need love to gift love, looking past my
blinding needs as a daughter, to see the pain in
his life. Had anyone loved him, how might I have

(03:58):
hurt him? After that visit, I knew I would return.
I began praying for him, calling and sending gifts and letters.
I realized it was not justice or equity I wanted
most of all, but relief. Often we think the cost

(04:18):
of forgiving is too high, but we do not consider
the cost of not forgiving. I found relief in releasing
his debts against me, especially as I realized my father
could not pay what he owed me, nor can many parents.
I found the yoke of forgiveness then lighter than the

(04:41):
yoke of hurt and hate. I found the yoke of
caring for him easier than the burden of abandoning him,
and love came back, Yes, in small doses. He called
me amazing. One day he phoned on my my birthday
when I came to visit. He didn't want me to leave.

(05:04):
All of this was new. All of this broke my
new found heart. Forgiving my father has changed me. The
broken and bitter parts of me are healing. One forgiveness
is led to others and to my own apologies from
those I know I have hurt. I am moving toward

(05:25):
the person I hope to be. My father was touched
as well, and the last two years of his life,
my worthless father was surrounded and blessed by the very
ones he had harmed. I believe he felt loved, perhaps
for the first time. We cannot heal all the broken

(05:46):
families of the world, but we can begin here with
ourselves and our own families. With God's forgiveness and love,
anything is possible.

Speaker 1 (06:03):
And a special thanks to Faith with the beautiful production
on that piece, and a special thanks to Leslie leyland
Fields for a superb and beautiful piece of writing. And
my goodness, our show well, we have people writing from everywhere,
including little Kodiak Island, which is a big place in Alaska.

(06:24):
My goodness, what territory she covered. We can't heal all
the broken families in the world. We can begin with
our own families, and by the way her faith. Without it,
I don't know how she would have pulled this off.
We are to forgive as we have been forgiven, she started.

(06:44):
I began to try, moving from need love to gift love.
Had anyone ever loved him? Wow? Imagine starting to ask
that question about the guy who just wasn't a good
dad at all. I had always thought that the cost
of forgiving was too ay, she said, But the cost
of not forgiving was higher. I found the yoke of

(07:05):
forgiveness lighter than the yoke of hurt and hate. And
love came back in small doses, a story of hope,
of forgiveness and love on Father's Day. Here on Our
American Stories. Lihabib here the host of our American Stories.

(07:35):
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(07:58):
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