He Did His Best…

Today I found myself lost in old photographs of my dad. I wasn’t looking for anything in particular but what I found was the ache of missing him.

In those images, he looked strong. Protective. Present. He stood between me and the chaos more than I realized at the time. He shielded me from Bully and Fanny in his own quiet ways, even if he played both sides now and then. The truth is, he did his best. For a man silently struggling with dementia long before the official words were spoken, that means more to me now than ever.

I remember a time I desperately needed a new car. Bully had sold my mothers car and handed the cash to Dad. I had no way to get to a new car or start saving. I asked Dad if he could co-sign a loan for me. He said he couldn’t, then accused me of blackmailing him. That stung. But now I think he was scared. Scared of Bully. Caught in a web of fear and manipulation, just like me.

And yet… he gave me the cash. Quietly. Without fanfare. But with one condition: the others must never know. That said everything. He wanted to help but he also knew the cost of stepping out of line. Still, he helped me anyway.

Meanwhile, the ones who caused all that fear, like Bully, go on with no remorse. No shame. Just control masquerading as concern.

But today, I’m not giving them my energy. Today, I’m remembering my dad. Not as perfect, but as someone who tried. Who found his own quiet ways to protect me. Who was doing his best under unbearable pressure. And that is what stays with me. That is the legacy I choose to hold.

Lesson of the Day:

‘Sometimes love shows up quietly ,in the moments no one else sees. ‘It’s easy to judge someone by their confusion, their flaws or what they couldn’t say out loud. But real love often lives in quiet actions, done behind closed doors, even when fear is in the room.