Saturday, August 4, 2007

Father's Day

The letter was sitting on the kitchen table. He had read it a few times over, but still felt himself drawn to the envelope with his daughter's handwriting on it. He could hear her voice as he read it, and yet felt as if he didn't quite know her. She was his little girl, and now she was married with children of her own. It was her turn now to care for them, keep an eye on them, worry about them...

She had never done something like this before for Father's day. She had designed her own cards for him, with her own copyright symbol on the back. He couldn't understand why she had not started writing stories or doing more with her writing than she was...but now she wrote him a letter for Father's day. He had been curious as to what the letter could contain. She had never done this before now. Maybe it was because he hadn't been feeling well lately. Whatever the reason, his emotions were playing ping-pong inside of his head. So many memories were coming back to the forefront of his mind as he read the letter again...

Dear Dad,

I thought about what I would do for Father's Day, and was coming up short. Then, I remembered that I gave mom a letter for Mother's Day and she seemed to like it. This is a break from tradition for us. Hey, it is more than you received last year. Sorry about that. Like I said, this is a new thing for both of us. I can imagine that you are feeling a bit awkward at this point, but rest assured that you have nothing to fear. Once you get over the initial shock, you may actually like hearing from me like this. Let's shoot for the moon!

I have always felt secure in your love. Even when you've been crabby, I have known that you have always had my best interest at heart. I have picked up on the real meaning of your questions about how my car is running and whether I have checked the oil lately. I get the picture. I love you, too.

Having a family of my own now has given me an idea of what you must have experienced as a parent. I know how you got your gray hair. It wasn't from Clairol, either! Parenthood can be stressful. I have heard it said that when you become a parent, a piece of your heart walks around outside of your body. I believe that is an accurate metaphor of how it feels to be a parent and watch your children grow. I also believe that God makes us so cute as babies that when we are teenagers our parents remember that before they decide whether to kill us or not. I suspect that may have been the reason that you let me survive into adulthood. I appreciate your forbearance more than I know how to express.


The tears were coming as he read the lines of the letter to himself. Why didn't she ever tell him these things before? What makes people wait to share their hearts with their loved ones? The ache dissipated as he continued to read the handwriting of his daughter. She was going easy on him, but that was to be expected. It was Father's day, and he hadn't been well. His illness affected everyone; from his wife and children to his siblings and extended family on both sides of the family tree.
Still, she hadn't said anything like this before in all of the years that they had known each other. Better late than never, he figured...

He read on and grew eager to see how the letter ended..."richly blessed to have you has a father...thankful for the opportunity to let you know how much I love you...sure that neither one of us feel comfortable with expressing these things to each other verbally as sincerely as we mean them..."

The words were hers, alright. She had a timid side to her that took over and shut her down in terms of communicating. If she didn't want to talk, then he had better luck roping an buffalo in New York City.

His heart was full of nostalgia and gratitude as he read the closing words to his Father's day present...
"May God impress upon your heart the tremendous impact that you have had on my character. Your love has made such a difference in my life....Love you!"

Anna was coming into the room; sporting a look of curiosity on her face that clearly meant she was curious about the letter. His wife of over 46 years was a part of all he held dear. She was beautiful and he adored her. Their children were their gifts to each other; and God's gift to them ultimately.

"Well, dear...how was it?"

"Good. Very nice. I guess I didn't do such a bad job raising her after all...I must've done something right..."

"Happy Father's Day."

The exchange ended with a kiss and a brief hug before Anna heard the buzzer go off on the dryer. She rubbed his back for a moment and excused herself to take care of the laundry. He held the letter in his hands for a moment, and then placed the letter back in the envelope before placing it back on the kitchen table. He would read it again later, just to hear her voice saying what he had wanted to hear for so long. It felt good to be loved.

5 comments:

batgirl said...

lovely and moving. thanks for sharing it, lynne.

ellehasuly said...

I took portions of it from the actual letter I wrote to my dad for Father's day. I am glad it was readable.

Joy and hummus,
Lynne

ellehasuly said...

My insecure writer self is feeling a bit chilly when it comes to reading responses...there aren't many for this blog...Would anyone be up for a ping-pong poem? Someone would start one, and each person choosing to would contribute an additional section? What a hoot that would be! I guess I don't even need the caffeine to be a bit wired over the idea...let me know what you think about the idea...

Joy, hummus, and a fresh taste of the bread of heaven...
Lynne

batgirl said...

Don't feel insecure because of comments or lack thereof, Lynne. Most people do not comment. Trust me. I've been doing this for a loooong time. I had plenty of posts with few comments or none. Yes, the comments are fun and affirming, but we need to find a way not to "need" them. Know what I mean? It isn't easy. But if you think of it more like journaling-- for you and God-- then the comments, if they come, are a bonus. Your blog is great and it blesses me, it blesses you, and it blesses God. The posts that get recycled onto the A4TH blog will bless even more people. Keep writing!

ellehasuly said...

Janet,
Thanks for the reminder and dose of encouragement. I know beyond reason that the Lord wants me to write for Him. I am sometimes unsure of whether I am successfully "crawling out of my own head" and making sense to the readers of my posts. My ability to communicate His love and mercy are contingent on translating my thoughts to a comprehensible and clear form. You are right in your assessment, of course...

Thank You.
Have a cup o'joy and a fresh taste of the bread of heaven...
Lynne