Memories of My Father: The Love Of A Father

Memories of my father

God’s love is so wonderful and it’s free and I personally am so grateful for it. Memories of my father reveals God’s love to my as my heavenly father and I’m so grateful for his gift of love. 😀

Other memories I had was when I was about 3 years old and my Me - Memories of my father blogpostmother who raised me had just come in from shopping and wanted to give me a boiled sweet, I was looking up with hand outstretched and started to cry indicating I wanted a full sweet. Mum complied, I remembered nothing after that.

Years later, I’m an adult and asked mum, “Do you remember, giving me a sweet when I was little, I know you wanted to bite it to make it smaller, but I refused?” It was mum’s turn to look shocked. It was unbelievable to her that I remembered-she said I couldn’t have been more than 2 years old!

Mum then told me what happened. How I had swallowed the sweet and it got stuck in my windpipe and I was rushed to the hospital, she said my dad was screaming at the doctor’s and told them that they better not let me die!

Angela, Ishaka and IAnother memory was me losing my two younger sisters. I was 7 years old and wanted to play with my friends, my little sisters wanted to tag along, but I didn’t want them to. We were at the end of
the street at a cross section and I sent them back. Come early evening I returned and the police had swarmed our house as my sisters were reported missing. Mum was visibly upset and asking me where were my sisters? I obviously didn’t know. Dad I remembered was calm.

The police took the description of my 5 year old and 3 year old sisters and before I knew it my sisters were returned safe and unharmed. I kind lady took them in, fed them and gave one a doll and the other I think it was a painting.

Relief. This too was God at work behind the scenes. Unknown to me, this was my adopted mother and it would have looked to the outside world I was trying to replace her children.

Another memory of my father was when I was 7 years old I asked him, “What on earth were you thinking naming me Joyce?” I told him it was oldfashioned and hated it! “Why couldn’t you give me a name like one of my sisters” I whined. He was clearly amused, but taken aback (being Nigerian he wasn’t used to children talking to him like that I suppose). :)

God is sooo gracious we do worse things and he’s so forgiving and loves us just the same! 😀

One more memory of my father was when he first introduced the London family to the Nigerian family when we migrated home. It was 1977 when I met my two older sisters from my birth mum and my brothers and sisters from my dad’s first wife. All his children’s ages ranged from 5 to 24 years old. Shortly after, he and I took a trip to the villiage to see my maternal grandmother who I had never met and she was clearly delighted to see me as he played interpreter. I was 10 and he and my birth mother as far as I know were not in contact. It was she who named me Eruvwuoghene (meaning: the goodness of God / the beauty of God’s character), she had named my two older sisters from my birth mother -who were sent to live we her after the breakup – so I had demanded she gave me a name too. Grandma took one look at me and named me – I clearly got my spuck from her! 😀

On July 21st 1978 my father died in Nigeria a year after moving us all there. I just turned 11 years old and the luxury and wealth we enjoyed prior to that went with him. He died intestate.

If you don’t have a relationship with your father God is there ready to step in and offer you the advantages you missed having a physically and emotionally present one. Just come to him just as you are.


To learn more about God’s free gift please read: A Chuckle In the Darkness

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