Dad’s season

Our wedding anniversary is June 18th, which happens to fall just before or very near Father’s Day every year. These two occasions are forever linked in my mind because when we were married, the day following our wedding would be the last Father’s Day I celebrated with my dad. I don’t remember buying him a gift or giving him a card. Instead, I remember calling him early that Sunday morning to see if he could bring my pillow by the hotel before we left for our honeymoon. Of course, he came with the pillow, my contact lens case, and several other things I forgot. And I remember him asking with a wink when I would be by to pick up the rest of the stuff I had left at their house. Surely, I hope, I wished him a happy Father’s Day.

Summer was my dad’s season. There are few places where I have more good memories of time spent with him than at the beach, the pool, the tennis courts, or on a bike trail. Summer offered him some time for retreat from the real world, and he was more relaxed and perhaps more himself when at play than anywhere. I’m not sure I’ll ever grasp how stressful his job was, but I’ll never forget how glad he was to be enjoying any sort of leisure with his family. 

Now as I’m in another summer season with my own family, it’s bittersweet to soak it up knowing how much Dad would enjoy these days. He’s missing so much: boat rides, bike rides, beach walks, pool days. And yet, I know… our limited perspective keeps us from understanding how much he has gained.

If I forgot to give him a card in 2005, this is the one I would write him in 2019:

Dad,

I have these three girls who ask about you often. It amazes me how curious they are about who you were and what you were like. Something deep inside them longs to feel connected to you. And, I don’t think it’s accidental that each of them has a characteristic or two that reminds me of you.

The oldest one has your intensity. She can be as stubborn as an ox, but she’s brave and determined to do whatever she’s doing well. She is driven and focused. And, also like you, she loves an adventure. Whether it’s wave-jumping at the beach or a new roller coaster at a theme park, she’s up for it. She loves to travel and see new places and try new things. She would be the one to want to parasail with you!

The middle one has your compassion. She insists she doesn’t want to be a doctor. But honestly, she already has your bedside manner. She listens well and remembers everything. She asks good, hard questions—thousands of them. And, she really cares deeply about people. {Ever cautious, she would never go parasailing with you or anyone else for that matter}.

And, then there’s the youngest one. I think you’d find her amusing. She has your slyness and perhaps your confidence. She is sneaky and proud of it, and I think you might be impressed with her creativity in the mischief department. She’s the baby of the family like you, and she seems to be quite content with that role. {She would definitely want to go parasailing with you, and she would attempt something crazy while doing it}.

You should know the son-in-law you didn’t get to spend much time with is our rock. He pours into me and your granddaughters with a love that is patient and kind. He brings much-needed balance to my intensity with his even-temperedness. You would appreciate his wit and his humor, but even more so his tender care for your family. I don’t deserve him. But you were right years ago when you told me before I ever met him, “He seems like a nice guy.” Fourteen years into this marriage you barely got to bless, trust me when I tell you he’s not just a “nice guy.” He’s a remarkable man and a fabulous father.

I sure wish you were here with us this summer. The girls would play badminton and frisbee with you, show you their latest dance moves, tell you long stories, and probably try to manipulate you {they’re very persuasive}. For sure, they would love you. I think your perpetual calmness would bring some balance to their drama. And if not theirs, it might still help mine!

As always, I miss you. We all miss you. But, we rest confident in the hope that you are in the awesome presence of Christ until we see you again.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad!

Love,
Your Firstborn