Merry Christmas Dad
Dad,
I am writing this to you so that you can get it in HEAVEN. I was at your grave on Friday. I'm sure that you heard me. The birds quieted as my tears fell from my face. I want to let you know that I did ok today. I cried a lot last night at Christmas Eve services. Reverend Waller said some nice words to comfort me and allow me to carry on. That piece of paper I put on the hurricane candle was for you. It symbolized how my spirit has not been whole since I lost you in March.
Christmas has not been the same this year, Stud. I must admit, I have not been very engaged this season. I commend Jennifer for putting up with my foul mood at times. I didn't do a lot of the Christmas shopping for the kids this year. I did some, but I leaned on Jennifer and Diane to do most of it. I didn't feel the Christmas spirit. It was nearly impossible for me to allow myself to feel joy when internally I was filled with the ever present loss of you. I don't know if you remember this, but I used to call you every year in November and tell you what I was thinking about getting Jennifer for Christmas. You always said "That sounds like a good one to me." Or something along those lines. This year, I missed our annual call.
I remember your advice on giving a gift to a woman: You can never go wrong with getting something that fits on her finger, around her neck or wrist, or dangles from her ears. Simple advice that is timeless. I will pass it along to Zac when he is ready. I didn't go with jewelry this year Dad. Instead I tried my hand at picking out clothing. I hit the mark. Jen loved everything that I selected for her. Not bad if I say so myself.
I know that this letter is rambling a bit, so please bear with me as I try to collect my thoughts. It is not every day that a son writes a letter to HEAVEN. Mrs. Malcom did have an example to use in 10th grade and I didn't find one on Google either so if those two places didn't have it, then it must not exist.
Dad, I have tried to live up to what you asked me to do that day in March. I am doing what I can to watch out for the family. I know that I have the best job in the whole world being a dad to Alexandria and Zachary. I am VERY proud of my kids as you know. Ali talks about playing with you often. You are one of her frequent playmates in the toy room. Thank you for keeping your promise of dropping in on my kids from time to time. I can see the joy in Ali's face as she tells me about all of the fun adventures she had while playing with Grandpa upstairs. I hope that you continue to visit and be her playmate. It really puts a smile on my face to hear her tell me all about the fun that she has with you.
I wish I could hear you like she does Dad. I stand outside the toy room and listen to her conversation with you. I must admit, I have peeked and watched her playing with her dolls. She will carry on a conversation with you just as she will me. Here is the tough question: Why wont you talk to me? Is it a rule? Oh how I wish you could just stop by and say hi. I wouldn't keep you for long. I just want to hug you one more time and hear your voice again. Your voice as it was before you got sick. The voice that could fill a gymnasium and carry the distance of a football field. Your voice, the sound that encouraged me to pursue my dreams and not let go. Your voice, the compassionate words that comforted a new father when his first child almost died before she had a chance to live. Your voice, to encourage your son to keep his head up when his job had lost its appeal. Your voice, when I introduced your grandson Zachary to you.
Your voice.
I regret not listening to your voice more when I was growing up. Instead of hurrying off to play, I wish I had spent more time at your side recording you in my mind.
Why did GOD have to take you so soon Dad? Why? I miss you big guy. I miss my best friend. I miss having someone to talk about Iowa State basketball with. I miss it all.
As the wind and the rain fell on Friday, I asked your Dad if he was there with you when you passed. On the drive back, the answer came to me. Yes, Grandpa was there that day. I'm sure he gave you a big hug and welcomed you into the Kingdom of HEAVEN. Dad when it is my time to leave this Earth, I hope that you are the first person to welcome me into GOD'S kingdom.
Merry Christmas Dad.
-bud.
