The other night my son and his father, my x-husband, got into a very horrible fight. My son 19 and his father 47 threw fists, had a battle while I was on the phone listening to it all.
Truth is both wanted to be heard. Both wanted to be right. Both wanted respect and love. Neither one was giving in to the others demands.
Fortunately, I have a friend who lives just a few houses away. I called and asked him to go get my son and he did. My son was safe and in good hands.
My x-husband was yelling and ranting on the phone to me about the whole situation. Blaming me, blaming my son Tyler, blaming the world. I heard such upset in his voice. It sounded like he wanted to or needed to just cry. The lump in his throat was the size of a bowling ball.
Typically, myself in this situation would have reacted in such a panicked, fear driven way that ANYONE dare touch my son….there would have been some type of retaliation on my part. But I did not. I did not even raise my voice.
And this is the honest to god’s truth…I felt bad for my x-husband. I felt love and compassion. It is like what Jesus said when he was on the cross “Forgive them father for they know not what they do.”
His father does not know how to show his love. And he does not know how to connect peacefully with his son. He LOVES his son. It is just not something he knows how to do. I felt a feeling for my x-husband that was not rotten for the first time in over 10 years.
This must be unconditional love.