Wednesday, October 30, 2013

A Letter to My Father

Dear Dad,

I always called you "Father."  Until the later years, then I called you Dad more.  I think we became closer by then, even though we were always close.

The past few months have been hard, but not in a pull-out-my-hair kind of hard.  Thanks for making your estate as easy as possible.  The mortgage company got the house.  I'm fine with that.   It took a huge load off my mind.  It was hard to hand it over.  Total strangers selling it.   Who knows who will buy it -- I know that prayed on your mind.

We had so many great times there.  Robin's mentioned she didn't like it at first when they family moved there, but I think she got used to it and it became home.   For me, it was the home I always knew.   I remember my crib being in yours and Mama's bedroom.  It's only a flash of a memory, but it's there.

So, fall is on its way.   I had a much needed vacation. The holidays are coming.  I'm not sure how I'm going to handle it.  Christmas was always your holiday.   You were the master of ceremonies.  Remember that year the you switched names on Jennifer Kay's and my presents?   You really had us fooled that year.  Of course, I know you like to tell the story about a baby Chris pulling off the tags so you had to play the guessing game.  Or knocking off the red balls so the tree was bare around the bottom.

Aunt Carolyn isn't doing too well.  I'm kind of preparing myself for you to come get her.   I know the day will come.  I haven't actually seen her for a while.  I sometimes think I should visit her, but I'd rather remember as she looked when I was going up.   She still sounds the same on the phone.

Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about something.   Even though you made me really mad at times, I want you to know that I really loved you.   You did so many great things for me.  You encouraged me.  Sometimes, you did drive me nuts when you thought I should do one thing and I wanted to do another.  You helped with the first couple of years of college, lent me a car to get there, tried to always get me what I wanted for Christmas.   You were and still are a great Dad.  You're weren't perfect, but I think you did the best you could with what you knew.  Of course, I was the youngest of three, so you had two others to practice on.

As far as I'm concerned, I couldn't have asked for a better Dad.  You and Mama did a great job.

I miss you.

Christopher the Third

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