I Miss My Dad
My Dad died August 14th 2002 of lung cancer. I had about 6 weeks to spend with him after he was diagnosed. I gave him this letter before he died because I knew that I couldn't say it out loud without losing it. Dear Dad, I’ve decided to take this time we have left to let you know what a great Dad you are. I have never been good with spoken words, especially sappy ones, but I’ve learned to put them on paper pretty well. I know this is impersonal typing a letter, but I write so little these days that you probably couldn’t read my handwriting. Please don’t think this is a goodbye letter, because it isn’t. When we get a handle on this cancer, I want you to make every effort to hang around as long as you can. All of the memories of my childhood are good ones, even being chased around by you swinging a folding measuring stick at me. I still chuckle when I think of that. I just wouldn’t leave Lisa alone that day. Or how about the time you ran me over with the dune buggy. My favorite is when you were sleeping in the back of the house during the day and we would make too much noise. I can still see you stomping down the hall in your skivvies. How about when I dropped that boy down the road on his head and his dad was chasing me down the road with his car. I ran into the driveway and you were in the front yard. I think you scaled the fence to get between him and me. He quickly retreated when he realized how serious you were. Well, that’s all I have for the bad stuff. That’s not bad for a lifetime is it? I bet I could top that today and my kids are only seven and ten. But seriously, I wouldn’t be the person I am without you. You taught me to be independent. You did this be teaching me to do just about anything. I still amaze people by how well rounded I am. Most people expect someone with a tie to walk onto a job site and start pointing and talking. I pull off the tie, roll up my sleeves, and dig in. Or we’ll start talking about cars and I’ll mention that I recently changed my timing belt or did my brakes and my coworkers have to do a double take. When they ask me how I learned so much in life, I tell them that my Dad taught me when I was growing up. You taught me to be hard working. I think some of this must have been passed down through the genes, because Nicolas is a chip off the old block. I asked him to blow off the driveway today, and he grabbed the leaf blower and didn’t quit until it was done. That’s how you get somewhere in this world. You can go to college and get book smart, but people really admire someone who has a strong work ethic. I know I got that from you. You took time to spend with your family. I can’t count the times we went on family trips. You diligently worked overtime and saved up and made sure we had everything we needed and still had time to take us all on vacation. How about all of the go carts and motorcycles that you bartered for. I remember working on all of them with you. You taught me respect. I never saw you raise your hand at Mom or anyone. You were stern enough to get respect from people without needing to get physical. Mary K really respects how you treat women and family in general. She attributes my family values to how I was raised. I used to think that there were some shortfalls in my childhood such as sports. You were never into sports, so I grew up not being very good at them. Now I think it’s a strength. I still can’t throw a football, but I can get my ass out of the recliner and build a cabinet or do my own plumbing. You taught me that life is about common sense and trusting yourself. Lastly you taught me kindness. I don’t think I will ever be as kind and helpful as you are, but I do aspire to be. I think Jimmy really takes after you when it comes to helping other people. I think too much about myself sometimes. I can’t count the number of Mom’s friends you helped move or fix their cars. I know you would do anything to help us kids, and I would do anything to help you. You’ve raised a tight family Dad. Heck, just look at all of us coming back to St. Augustine to be together. Jim and I left home for years, and then came right back to live. That says something for this family. I just hope that I can be half the man that you are. I love you Dad. Richard
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