Sometimes things go unsaid. Feelings aren’t shared.

And then a very special birthday occurs, which nudges open a door, allowing these unsaid words to flow and hidden feelings to surface, in . . .

A Letter To Dad

“Given To Him On His 80^th Birthday”

I had been meaning to write this letter to my father for a long time. But life seemed to get in the way, and I put it aside. However, today, with the rain beating on the window, I had no desire to be out in it. So I sat at my desk facing a new blank word document on my computer screen. And I reflected on my life—a life with him and the things that remained unsaid. So I

began . . .

Dear Dad, when I look in the mirror, I see a lot of you in me. I am your son and it makes me proud. But I am fifty-four and that seems strange. For that is how old you should be. It is the age of a father, not a son. However, I, too, am a father, and my son is the age I should be. This all seems so confusing.

You are now eighty and have completed a large part of your life. The tire tracks of time have been etched into your body and mind. I know you have many memories of our journeys together—some now faded, others still bright. They are part of our mutual history.

Although we have had our disagreements, I never doubted your love for me. As the years have passed, so have the differences between us. Some we have worked out. Others have drifted off into a sunset of peace.

From the times you umpired my Little League baseball games to the trip you made to my college in upstate New York to bolster my spirits when I was ill, I knew you would be there when I needed you. Your support always has been very important to me.

However, there were occasions when I thought you were too hard on me—pushing me to meet unreasonable standards. But then you relaxed and let me do my own thing, at my own pace, and stayed off my back. The lessons from these experiences became the essence of the man I am today.

Over the years, I may not have expressed in words the love and respect I have for you. I love you for everything you are and for everything you have given me. The seeds you have sown have made me both strong and understanding. You have taught me compassion and that grown men are allowed to cry.

From the example you set, I have embraced being frugal and not squandering either time or money. You have provided me with the tools to get through hard times and to enjoy the fruits of my success. The work ethic I have embodies your teachings. You have been my role model. I deeply respect your business knowledge and the dedication you had for your craft.

I hope you count me as one of your successes, that I have made you proud, and not let you down too often. As the seasons change, I want to be not only your son, but also your friend. As you have supported me all these years, I am here for you. For Dad, eighty is not old. It is just the beginning of a new decade of life. May you enjoy it to the fullest . . . with love, your son, Alan.

Dad passed away on January 28, 2003, a little more than four years after receiving this letter. Two months before his death, he and my mother traveled to my home outside Sacramento, where I had been living for three months. He wanted to see it and the college where I worked. At the time, I had no idea why he felt the urgency to visit me so soon after my move. However, as I found out later, his cancer, in remission for nine years, had returned—a fact he shared only with my mother.

The visit turned out to be one of the most significant experiences of my life. For the first time, he put into words his feelings about me, the man. As he exited my home to get into the car to go to the airport, he hugged me and whispered, “I am so proud of everything you have done and of the man you have become.”

Copyright © 2016 Alan Lowe. All rights reserved.