Father's Day

Ever since I can remember  my father has taken the time to write my two brothers and I notes.  It was a common thing as an adolescent to find an envelope on a dresser or bed, and these notes came with a myriad of things behind them.  Some would convey how proud he was about something we did, others would tell us how disappointed he was.  All would remind us that he loves us and truly wants the best for us.  I was always glad to get one of these notes, even if it meant we were having conflict, because it meant honest interaction with my dad, and not all of my friends had that sort of thing.

I'm turning 34 this month, and the quantity  of personal notes that I get from Pop is dramatically lower than when I was 14.  I like to think it's because I have less shaping and refinement that needs to take place, and Pop has moved on to writing other things, publishing books and articles.  But a couple weeks ago I received another envelope with my name on it.  It reminded me of how proud I am to have a father who can communicate and interact with me, and how amazing it is that he was able to break the cycle of rough-tongued, emotionally distant fatherhood that was shown to him.  My father isn't mean and angry.  My father and I had more father-son talks than I can count.  I'm proud of my father and his ability to love us.  Pop has been, is, and will be there for me whenever & wherever he can.

All that, plus he took me camping, to football games, and Dairy Queen.  He told me and showed me Jesus, how to treat a woman, how to be a good friend, how to love the marginalized, and the finer points of survival cooking.  I hope that if I ever get the chance to be a father that I'm half as good as Pop has been for his three boys; Kyle, Gosall & Myself.