Letter to My Father
Genuine.
March 17, 2015
Dear Dad,
Happy Birthday! If you were subject to the same time limitations I am, you would be 98 years old today. It is fun to imagine you at 98—bent over some, no doubt, but still tough as nails and still riding horses if physically possible. You would be laughing at your own jokes, crying every time one of us left to go home, and needling us with your awful politics.
As I have grown older I realize (deep down in my bones like I never have known before) that I am indebted to you and Mother for my very life. If it were not for you, I would not be here and neither would any of us. This is a debt I can never repay.
There is no way I can list, much less prioritize, your many gifts to me. Certainly one of the most important (and most formative) was your generosity, which seemed to have no bounds. I took the generosity for granted for many years. I received a more than generous allowance in college. When Betty and I decided to get married, I called and told you and Mother. Without me asking or even thinking to ask, you increased my allowance to support a married couple.
I have never known anyone who had more integrity or was more loyal. You were a No. One cheerleader and a No. One mourner. And, what a man! My hunters still talk about you every time we get together. I love hearing the Virgil stories!
By no means were you perfect. You were passive when Mother had been drinking too much and berated us in your presence. You aided Mother’s alcoholism. You were limited in sharing intimate feelings. You could be terribly insensitive and hurtful. And you were stubborn as a mule.
If I could change anything at all, the only changes I would make would be not to you but for you—that you would have the full, happy life you and Mother so richly deserved. My hope and prayer is that every tear has been wiped from your eyes, that you are in paradise and that I will join you someday.
With overflowing love,
Drew