Letter to Dad
Dear Dad,
Since, as you know better than anyone, my finances are messy right now, I figured you'd understand if I use this Father's Day to tell you what a wonderful force you've been in my life, and how very much you mean to me. This is likely to ramble quite a bit; I'm rather sleep-deprived at the moment, and your effects in my life have been so profound that I'm likely to skip all over the place.
I was writing today at one point about how very much I am my parents' child; I've been dealing with a mixed episode, and it's a combination of mom's openness allowing me to reach out to the people I need and get the support that makes all the difference, and your analytical patterns that allow me to plot out a course of action that's rational, despite the contrary internal biochemical messages. Without that guiding pattern that I so clearly got from you, I know I would spend so much more of my life floundering and making self-destructive decisions in the midst of the emotional chaos. Thank you so much for that.
One of the things I've never stopped missing, as a result of living so far from you, is listening to your sermons. Getting the chance to always reminds me of how awed I am by your ways of thinking about things. Also, one of the most iconic memories of my childhood, that speaks so directly to joyfulness and "everything is right with the world", is Christmas midnight mass, in a darkened church, and hearing your voice beginning the service with that beautiful passage. My clearest memory of it is from Davison, in the pew with Mom and James, and infant Matt asleep on me, your voice echoing from the back. And thank you for raising me within the church community; even though it got crazy at times, it also taught me how to cope with the foibles and relish the mutual caring; it's deeply influenced the patterns in my life to this day.
And I'm so thankful for the experiences you gave me with Gordonwood. So many of my fondest childhood memories are from there, and are inextricably tied to you, even the later years when you weren't there when I was. It all fed into the encouragement you gave me to be competent and independent, and that's served me so well over the years. And our family camping trips have left me with a love of the outdoors, and a comfort in it, and a plethora of wonderful family memories. Also, your infinite patience with all the critters I kept bringing home? Oh, thank you! I remember your exasperated patience with my insistence that every single animal, down to the last fire newt, be blessed on St. Francis Day.
I know my life often seems strange and chaotic, but it is so very true that the most crucial stabilizing cores of that are from you (and what I did get helps rather a lot in finding ways to deal with one of your traits that I certainly never got to anywhere near your level -- self-discipline). Your ethics, most especially, have had a profound effect on how I try to choose my interactions with the world, and I think I'm a much better person for that. You've given me a very high standard to live up to; I think I respect you more than anyone else in my life. And being able to have utter faith in your continuing love for me, while still allowing me the freedom to be myself and to learn to be independent, has rippled throughout my life in my ability to love and trust others in turn, and to gradually find the wonderful interdependency with other people without losing myself.
And thanks for your love and presence in my life, even at my craziest times when I drive you up the wall. It's given me confidence that buoyed me up immeasurably.
Thank you for never trying to make me someone I'm not, and for helping to create a family where I'm loved and accepted in all my weirdness. Thank you for your love of Mom, and the stability you've provided all of us through the rough times, the modelling of what commitment and partnership truly mean, and how to live that through the hard spots as well as the easy.
Thank you for letting me be a part of your day-to-day work life, whether playing in your office at church, or going on nursing home visits. I've gained so much from that.
Thank you for the help with all the science projects, and for my college experience, and for my love of learning. Thank you for believing in me, and supporting me, and encouraging me. Thank you for all the opportunities you worked so hard to provide me.
And thank you so very much for your silliness and humor. It's a central thread in so many of my memories of you, and one of the things I miss so much about seeing you so rarely.
And thank you for raising your sons to be men I'm proud to call my brothers.
I can't imagine what my life would have been like without you in it, but I know it would have been immeasurably poorer. I feel so incredibly fortunate and blessed to have you as my father, and especially to have had the childhood I did with you. I can't imagine a better one. I know I'm probably underestimating when I say that at least once a week it comes up in conversations with friends how lucky I am to have you, and to have our family. I love you.
One of earliest memories: being in the church in Virginia, you holding me after services in the entryway, and me thinking how I couldn't wait to be old enough to ring the church bell.