A Message To My Dad
Spicy, puffy eyes this morning. Mortified to walk into my still new office full of strangers wearing my hurt all over my face. No turning back now. The windows of this soul were foggy and nearly swollen shut, but they were pointed forward.
Man, I am no good at this whole mortality thing. I just need my daddy to live forever. There is so much I still need to show him that I can be to make him proud of his youngest, feistiest, driven daughter.
His ever-constant, calming smile and quiet strength replay in my mind and weigh heavy on my heart today. Mine feels the hurt that his is being consumed with. How can a heart so full function at only thirty percent? How can it be tired when it has so much left to do and so much more to give?
Life has been an interesting journey for sure. It jags and darts just when we are searching for a much needed smooth and straighter route. But it’s not nearly close to over for you yet dad- we’ve got lots more camping to do and off-color jokes to tell. Who else will make me laugh so hard that our bellies hurt, our cheeks burn red and we can’t catch our breaths?
You’re humor is infectious. Your patience is inspiring. And you still have so much more to teach me about how to smile with grace through life’s greatest storms. I’ve been watching you do that for years, and I’m still working on how to perfect it.
Among the many treasures I take with me down my own path in life, your quiet strength has been the greatest gift I’ve ever received from you. I have watched you continually take the high road when you could have justifiably and just as easily met the low points straight in the eye. I’ve never seen you lose your perspective even when life has hurled the sharpest arrows meant to knock you off your center. But you have never faltered from being true to your path, accepting that it is not always an easy one. I want to find that sweet spot in my own life too, and then perch there with that same steady view of what’s out beyond me and my comfort zone.
It’s easy to find excuses to give up.
You’ve shown me it’s best to leave them right where I find them, for those with less willpower who need them more. And instead keep walking. Right past the point of giving up and straight towards the solution, always just up ahead.
I’m not sure if you ever meant to teach me this, or if you just meant to teach me to never stop looking forward. There are so many lessons that I think perhaps you might have never set out to teach me, and that’s what made them stick. I know there were times you wondered where we stood. You have always been the one I look up to, who I draw strength from. Whose heart I hope mine one day looks like.
So I guess what I need you to hear from me now maybe more than anything is just, thanks. Thanks for showing me what’s worth fighting for. Thanks for always believing in me. Thanks for smiling that quiet smile when I needed to find my strength again. Now it’s my turn to return it to your heart.
You got this, dad. You always have. Just keep looking forward. You’ve got a lot more road to go, no excuses. Your heart is your power, it will not fail you now.
I Love you more than a diabetic loves cookies. Even just the smell of them.