Navigating Family Relationships This Christmas: Lessons in Love, Kindness, and Acceptance

Yesterday, an unexpected moment gave me pause and led me to reflect deeply on my relationship with my dad and capture my thoughts. My father is a man of many layers—deeply loving, profoundly complex, proud, undeniably human and a good 'Aussie Bloke'. Our journey together has been filled with joy, challenges, and invaluable lessons that have shaped who I am today. As Christmas approaches, I'm reminded of the importance of kindness and meeting people where they are—a sentiment that resonates deeply when I reflect on my relationship with Dad.

An Idyllic Childhood

During my early years growing up, my siblings and I were enveloped in a cocoon of unconditional love. Our parents created a home where affection was abundant, and safety was a given. But even in those early years, my father's shadows were present. He carried pain from his own upbringing, particularly his strained relationship with his mother. While he loved her, their connection was fraught with conflict and unresolved wounds. Dad promised himself that his children would never feel like he did grow up. He kept that promise, but those shadows still found ways to surface, even if I was unaware at the time.

When I was three, we moved two hours north of my hometown and lived in a brand-new house in a budding community. I have fond memories of Dad transforming our barren backyard into a lush oasis. He built fences, planted trees, and crafted a space where we could explore and play freely. We were typical kids of the 80s living in suburbia, roaming the streets on our bikes and playing with the neighbours' kids until the streetlights came on.

Dad was the life of every gathering—fun-loving, hardworking, and always ready to lend a hand. He was respected in his work at the smelter, where he was known for his fairness and intelligence. Our family life was filled with laughter and warmth, and my parents' love for each other was the foundation of our happiness.

A New Beginning on the Farm

When I was ten, our lives took a dramatic turn. Concerned about the health risks at the smelter, Dad and Mum decided to move back to their hometown and partner with my aunt and uncle on a turf farm. The transition from our suburban haven to rural farm life was significant. We moved into a 16-foot caravan on the farm for six months—a stark contrast to our spacious home.

The early days were challenging. Living in close quarters strained our family dynamics, and the pressures of the new venture weighed heavily on my parents. However, once we moved into the farmhouse, things began to settle. We adapted to farm life, learning to drive trucks and exploring vast open spaces. Dad continued to work tirelessly, but there was a subtle shift in him.

The Accident That Changed Everything

One night, when I was sixteen, Dad decided to go hare-shooting with our neighbour's son. Despite Mum's pleas—her intuition telling her something was off—he insisted on going. He had been drinking but assured her he'd be fine since he wasn't driving.

Tragically, the neighbour's son took a sharp turn at high speed. Dad, standing in the back of the truck with the gun, was thrown out. He broke his shoulder and was knocked unconscious. I remember the fear and uncertainty as we waited for news, my mother's worry palpable.

While Dad recovered physically, the accident marked a turning point in his life—and ours. He came home a different man. The lightness in his spirit dimmed, replaced by irritability and bouts of anger we'd never seen before. His optimism gave way to pessimism, and he became more withdrawn.

Navigating the Shadows

At the time, we didn't understand the extent of his trauma. Mental health wasn't a topic we knew much about, and Dad's struggles went largely unaddressed. It wasn't until years later that we suspected he might be dealing with depression, anxiety, or even undiagnosed brain damage from the accident.

As I grew older, our relationship became strained. Dad's anger would flare unexpectedly, and I often challenged him, unwilling to accept his outbursts. We butted heads frequently, each encounter leaving emotional bruises. It was a difficult period, filled with misunderstandings and hurt feelings.

Embracing the Seven Elements of Love, Fear, and Beliefs

In recent years, I've been guided by the Seven Elements of Love: acceptance, appreciation, compassion, forgiveness, giving and receiving, joy and trust. Applying these principles has profoundly transformed how I interact with my father. That said, let me be clear—it’s an ongoing practice, and with each interaction, I still work to respond with love rather than react impulsively.

• Acceptance: I learned to accept Dad as he is, without trying to change him—acknowledging that he’s unlikely to confront his shadows, no matter how liberating it might be for him. Recognizing that his anger stemmed from deep-seated pain allowed me to see beyond the surface and approach him with greater understanding.
• Appreciation: I focused on his positive qualities—the hardworking man who provided for us, the storyteller who loved books, and the father who, despite his struggles, loved us deeply. I also found gratitude in simply appreciating his presence in this world and in my life.
• Compassion: Understanding that he was battling unseen demons allowed me to approach him with empathy rather than frustration.
• Forgiveness: I let go of past hurts and moments of conflict, recognising that holding onto resentment would only create more distance. Forgiving him—and myself—allowed me to focus on the love we share rather than the struggles we've faced.
• Joy: I sought moments of happiness with him, like planning a surprise lunch or discussing his favourite books.
• Giving and Receiving: I realised that giving my time and attention was as valuable as any material gift, and I allowed myself to receive his love in return.
• Trust: I rebuilt trust in our relationship by being consistent and open, creating a safe space for both of us.

The "Moment"...

One of the most meaningful experiences we've shared recently revolved around a book series he loves. During a visit home, Dad excitedly told me about a novel he'd enjoyed. His eyes lit up as he recounted the storyline and characters. My Dad is a hard man to buy for, so seeing his enthusiasm, I decided to surprise him with the entire six-book series for Christmas.

I ordered the books, addressing the delivery to myself but having them sent to my parent's house to ensure they would arrive in time for Christmas. Unfortunately, when the package arrived, Dad didn't read the name on the delivery and opened it. When my mum informed me, my dark wolf surfaced quickly, and I hate to admit it, but I lashed out at her somewhat, playing the blame game—not my proudest moment (Sorry, Mum!). I quickly realised, though, that my reaction wasn't about the books themselves; I was grieving the Christmas morning with my dad that I'd envisioned but would no longer have.

Pulling myself together, I let it go, and just a few hours later, Dad called me. We ended up having one of the nicest conversations we've had in a while, talking about the books and laughing together. I realised at that moment that everything had worked out perfectly, and now, after our chat, I'm even planning to borrow the books from him. Ultimately, the joy was in the connection, not the timing. Dad's happiness made it all worthwhile.

Kindness is Love in Action

This experience reinforced an important lesson: kindness is love in action. Sometimes, we have to let go of our expectations and meet people where they are. Especially during the holiday season, it's crucial to remember that many are carrying burdens we know nothing about.

For my father, Christmas can be challenging, and he often feels overwhelmed. By approaching him with kindness and understanding, I can offer the support he might not know how to ask for.

Meeting People Where They Are

Our relationship isn't perfect, but it's real. I've learned that loving someone means accepting their whole self—the light and the shadows. It's about choosing compassion over judgment and connection over conflict.

As we approach Christmas, I encourage everyone to extend kindness to those around them. Reach out to family members who might be struggling, offer a listening ear, or share a moment of joy. Remember that sometimes, the greatest gift we can give is our presence and understanding.

A Final Reflection

My father is a testament to the complexities of the human spirit. Through him, I've learned (and continue to learn!) the power of the Seven Elements of Love, Fear, and Beliefs (to be shared in a future post, watch this space ;). I've learned that love isn't always easy, but it's always worth it.

I know all too well how family can trigger our own shadows—no one can push our buttons quite like they do - but I encourage everyone to be more mindful this holiday season and to fully embrace the spirit of kindness. Let's meet people where they are (including ourselves) and love them anyway. Because, in the end, love has the power to heal our shadows, bridge gaps, and bring light into the darkest corners.