Dear Dad,
I really miss you today.
I don’t have the thing where I wanted you to love me more or be more proud of me. Even though our time together was weekends and trips, I could always feel your love and appreciated how proud you were of me.
Can you believe I have my own son now? Man, you would have loved playing with him. He’s really good at making things with blocks. I bet he gets that from you.
We have a guitar at home, and he always asks me to play. I can’t play like you, not even close. But I do sing him “Puff the Magic Dragon” while strumming some chords, and sometimes he sings along too. It reminds me of us. He loves the song, just as I did. And every once in a while I throw in a deep-voiced flourish, just like you used to.
I wish you were around to take us camping and fishing. I’m confident I can help him develop the same sense of sportsmanship you gave me when it comes to athletics, but less so that I can show him how to fish and camp like you did with me. You were so good. Except for the time you shut the trunk and accidentally snapped all our fishing rods. But I’m glad we could laugh about it.
You know the NFL playoffs are going on right now. The Steelers are already out and the LA Rams just lost. That’s right, the Rams are back in LA. I remember stories you used to tell me of Eric Dickerson standing straight up as he ran down the field. I remember a lot of your stories, but I wish you were here to tell them.
I still don’t drink. I saw how much pain it caused you to not be able to stop even when you knew it was killing you. If I ever do have any alcohol, it’ll never be to blunt pain. I saw your life, and how beautiful of a person you were, and how hard it was for you to fight. I won’t take that chance. You can be sure of it.
My son’s going to come home in a few hours from daycare, and we’re gonna build with blocks and sing songs and listen to music, like we do most days. I think this year, as he gets a bit older, we’ll get him a ukulele like you used to have.
I hope he gets the best parts of you, both the ones that still live in me, and the ones that I may have forgotten.
Hope you’re well up there.
Love, Lee