Dear Daddy

My dad would have been 100 years old today.  I was my parent's "late in life" surprise.  I was born when my Mom was forty three and my Dad was forty six.  My Mother says the first thing he said when I was born was "I hope I live long enough to see her raised".  He did, but barely.  He died at the age of sixty three, when I was seventeen and had been married for one month.  I've often wondered what it would have been like to have him longer than I did, to give and get a hug from him as an adult, to see him love and play with my children, and to be able to tell him the things I wish I could have said to him.

Dear Daddy,
I feel like I was cheated,  I don't feel like I truly ever got to know you.  Please don't take that wrong, you were a wonderful, kind, loving, and very protective father.  It was in no way your fault, it was mine.  I only knew you as a child and a snot-nosed teenager, and then you were gone.  One of my biggest regrets is that I never got the chance to know you, visit with you, and love you, as an adult.  An adult who can see the error of her ways, the many things you tried to teach me as a teenager who wouldn't listen, but now know it as the truth.  I wish I could tell you that.

I remember how worried you were about storms, how you would watch the sky as a thunderstorm rolled in.  It wasn't for yourself you were afraid, it was for your family.  Getting us to the basement and to safety if the need arose, was something you felt responsible for as the Dad.  Life dealt you one storm though, that you couldn't do anything about.  You had to watch kidney disease take it's toll on one of your children.  Glenn fought the battle for over ten years but then we lost him at the age of twenty three when I was eleven years old.  I know how much it hurt me then, and how much I still miss him to this day.  I can only imagine the pain it caused you and Mother.  I don't remember life changing any, other than the fact that Glenn was no longer with us.  You still went to work each day, still loved me.  I don't  remember any palpable sorrow filling the house.  You and Mother drew strength from each other and from your faith and you kept life happy for the one child you still had at home. I know now, that it couldn't have been easy.  I wish I could tell you that.

I remember you dropping me off at one of my high school basketball games.  You asked me if I had any money in case I wanted some popcorn or something.  I said "No, but I don't need any".  You said, "No, here, I want you to have some just in case", then opened up your wallet and gave me a couple dollars.  You had grown up extremely poor, and you went on to say "I remember after one of my high school games I played in, they had just come out with an ice cream sandwich called Eskimo pie.  All the rest of the team  got one, but  I didn't have any money to get one and I had to sit there and watch them eat theirs and they looked so good."  You will never know how much that story touched me.  I fought tears that night and I still fight them every time I think about it.  I wish I could tell you that.

I know that in the last three months of your life,  I disappointed you more than you had ever been disappointed in any of your children.  When Mark and I found out we had to tell our parents that we were pregnant and not even yet out of high school, I dreaded telling you most of all.  But instead of having to live with the memory of you being mad and telling me how disappointed you were with me, you calmly came, sat down by Mark and I, and told us you loved us and that you would love any children we had.  With you gone less than three months later, Daddy, you couldn't have given me a more precious gift. Oh how I wish I could tell you that.

I wish you could see what a wonderful husband Mark turned out to be.  I so wish you could have enjoyed our six children.  I can only imagine how you would have loved the four girls when they were little!  And I would have loved for you to have seen the boys play ball.  You would have been so proud!  We always thought they got  their athletic ability from you.  You were a star athlete in your day, especially in basketball and baseball, the very two sports the boys excelled in.  Bryan looks like Mark's side of the family, but Kyle has always reminded me of you.  And one of my grandsons, Karen's little boy Kyson, looks a tremendous amount like you!  I wish I could tell you that.

I know how much I've missed by having you in my life for only seventeen years.  But you gave me a legacy of love from a father who always put me and the rest of his children ahead of his own wants and needs.  You taught me right from wrong, what is important and what isn't, to be content with what I have, to never take for granted the small blessings in life, to take severe weather seriously, and to chew fish well so I never choke on a bone!  And someday, thanks to Jesus, I'll be able to tell you that.