So Glad I Didn't Move On My First Instinct

Last year, I flew home to surprise my dad for his birthday. I hadn’t seen him in over a year.

When he saw me, he froze. Then his eyes welled up, and he pulled me into a long hug.

Two minutes later, he was out in the yard mowing the lawn.

I waited inside, expecting he’d come back in any minute to sit, catch up, connect, but instead, the mower broke down and he disappeared again to fix it.

And as I sat there alone, the excitement in me started to turn sour. I felt disappointed. Hurt. Angry, even.

I’d just flown 20 hours to be here, for him. And now he was out there tinkering with a broken lawnmower like I was just some guy dropping by.

I started preparing what I was going to say to him. How I’d let him know how ungrateful he was being. How he made me feel unseen, unimportant.

But then something in me paused.

I caught myself.

I remembered one of the hardest things to practice when you’re hurting:

Assume the best and ask from a place of curiosity.

So when he came into the house after about an hour, I made us both a coffee, and I asked him:
“Hey Dad, I noticed you went back to your tasks right after I arrived… we haven’t seen each other in so long. How are you feeling right now?”

He sat down, looked at me, and said, “Honestly… I was just shocked and overwhelmed. I didn’t know what to do. I had planned to mow the lawn today, and I guess I just stuck with the plan.”

So I asked, “What was overwhelming about me showing up for you?”

And he paused, looked down, and said, “I just don’t feel like I deserve it. No one’s ever done something like that for me before. Spending all that time and money just… for me.”

He said he felt unworthy.

And it broke my heart.

All that time I thought he didn’t care.
That he wasn’t present.
That he was selfish.

But the truth was, he was overwhelmed by love, and didn’t know how to receive it.

It reminded me how easy it is to judge, to project, to blame, especially when we are hurting.
And how hard it is to stay open, ask a question, lead with love instead of pain.

But that’s where the real connection lives.

Not in demanding understanding,
but in offering it first.