That pretty much sums it up. Please forgive a personal and less than jolly holiday season blog, but my dad has been on my mind recently. Year upon year now have slipped quietly past since I last held him… last told him I loved him…. said a final goodbye. They say that time heals all wounds, but I’m not so sure. Perhaps it does apply a soft lens and some sepia tones to ones memories.
There are certain times and life events during which the absence of loved ones is most acutely felt. Thanksgiving, Christmas and the birth of a child I’ve found rank high among these. So at this joyous time of year, please indulge me a very brief sad moment. It’s just that I do so wish my father could be with us… could see his perfect little granddaughter… hold her… kiss her hair.
Please don’t feel you must read all of this. I’m really writing it for myself and for our 8 year old daughter who never got to meet her Grandpa. I want her to know about the man who always brought strangers home to our Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners… people with no families and some with no homes. I’m not saying my father was a saint, he was as flawed and human as any man.
He was also always always slightly bigger than life. Perhaps that’s the way dads always seem to their little boys. But I know his friends saw him that way, too. He flew jets off naval aircraft carriers, was an international business man, a Texas rancher… and most importantly he was my dad. I’m not going to drag this out. Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming, and I just wanted to say, “I love you dad.”
Oh, and if you are a dad, or know one… tell him to go hug his kids or his grand kids and tell them he loves them. Would you do that for me? Thanks.