Tomorrow is Father's Day, and though I know my Dad won't ever read this, I want to write a few things to him here, that maybe I'll print out and send to him. But I don't know. Mushy stuff makes him uncomfortable sometimes, but I've done things before that he wasn't comfortable with, so we'll see.
Dad, of all the people in my life, you have been the most constant. The one and only person I've never doubted I could count on. When I think of all the sacrifices you made, early on in your life when most young men would have ran away as fast and far as they could, I am amazed. You married Mom, and took me and brother in as your own. Never once have I wondered why you did that. I know it's because you loved us. All my life I've known that. I've felt it. Despite the objections of your family -- and I know there were many -- you stayed with us. You had a sense of decency and responsibility I've rarely seen in others, even though you had no obligation to us at all. I don't know what would have happened to us without you. We were alone and poor. We had been abandoned. You would never let that happen to us again.
As I was growing up, you made sure we had everything we needed, if not wanted. Even when you weren't making much money, and you couldn't afford a lot of things, I remember toys and bikes. And a trip to Disneyland when I was 10. I realize now what it must have taken for you to do that for us. I remember always seeing your face in the bleachers at softball games and track meets. And when I had my first gymnastics meet in the 7th grade and fell off the balance beam 4 times, you complimented me on my courage, saying you could never get up there in front of all those people. I loved you for saying that. And that same year, when I unexpectedly started my period during a bowling tournament and had to leave feeling embarassed and ashamed, while also ruining my new white pants, you wrapped your jacket around my waist as we walked out, and told me a story (made up a story!) on the way home about a girlfriend you had in junior high school who started her period while you were out in the woods hiking, and you were carrying her over a stream, or something. And you let me know it was okay, that it happens to everyone, and it was no big deal. I loved you for that, too.
I have so many reasons to love you. For just being there, always. For teasing me, and telling me stories, and making me laugh so hard I'd almost wet my pants. For embarassing me in front of my friends by arriving at school to pick me up wearing a gigantic black afro wig. For writing me letters while I was away at school. And including checks with poems like "Presents are nice, they glitter and flash. But nothing's as nice as good old cash." I still have every single one of them saved in a box.
You were the only one who said I shouldn't get married at age 23. You stood by me, and walked me down the aisle, but you wished that I wouldn't. Turns out I should have listened to you. Wasn't the first time you were right. Wasn't the first time I didn't listen, either. But you let me make my mistakes, and you were always there to help me pick up the pieces.
Over the years, into my adulthood, I have witnessed your incredible generosity and tremendous capacity for love play itself out once again with Tasha. And she adores you as I do. And again, this was not your responsibility. It was not your burden to bear, yet you assumed it anyway. Out of love. And compassion for a child who needed you. Once again, it's just like you to do that. How tremendously lucky this family has been with you at the lead, Dad.
My greatest fears were almost realized this past October when your heart suddenly stopped. Thank God you were at the hospital when it happened. A quintuple bypass and many prayers and tears later, you were okay. I can't tell you how many times I've cried myself to sleep at night at the thought of losing you. This started long ago -- when I was a child. I've never been able to stand the thought of losing you. And when I almost *did* lose you, well, I don't know if I can describe how I felt. But you made it through, and I am determined to let you know how much that means to me. How much you've always meant to me.
When Mom died 7 years ago, I saw a shadow fall over you. I took it for granted that you and Mom would always be around, and I think maybe you did too. When she was gone, your sadness tore at me. I wanted to protect you, but what could I do? So I got rid of telemarketers for you, door-to-door magazine saleskids that you were throwing your checkbook at, and things like that, so that no one could take advantage of you while you grieved for your lost wife. I know you didn't understand me at the time, while I was doing all that, but I needed to take care of you in whatever way I could. Getting rid of looters was the best I could do. I wish I had done more. But I was grieving myself, and in those circumstances, whatever we do is about all we can do.
You've begun talking about your estate and your will a lot lately. I hate it when you talk about that stuff, but I know it's necessary. You were sad when you told me that the bulk of your estate is being left to Tasha, because she has no one to take care of her. You wanted to make sure I understood what you meant, and I do. You wanted to make sure I wasn't sad that B wasn't getting as much as Tasha. Oh, Dad. I'd rather you lived a long long life and spent ALL of your money on yourself, having a good time. Leaving nothing behind. But I do know what you mean. I've got P now. I know how much it means to you that I've got someone who loves me so much. That I've got my own family now. It must be a huge relief to finally not have to worry about me all the time! Thank you for worrying about me. I, too, am glad you don't have to anymore! And I'm glad you don't have to worry about B. Please don't give the contents of your will another thought. I don't want anything! And B doesn't need it. I want you to live long enough that there isn't anything left. That's what I want.
Dad, I love you. That's all there is to it now. You are an angel on earth, and I've been tremendously lucky to share my life with you. I am looking forward to many more years of knowing you. You're one in a million. Truly. Happy Father's Day.
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