A Letter to My Father on Father's Day

...I know you were a troubled man. I know you never got the chance to be yourself, to be your best. I hope that Heaven's given you a second chance...

Dear Dad,

You've been gone now for 1,312 days, but I still think of you all the time. I think of the things you survived, the moments that broke your heart, the pain you hid behind your pride. I think of the vulnerability that came out in tears at church on Sundays mornings, and the way those salty drops of hope and shame and sadness shaped my view of what it means to be strong as a man.

I think of a bald head and a hairy back, a man who never reached six feet but was always larger than life. I think of a red face and a stream of curses and the root that grew my fear of ever being late to anywhere.

I think of wrestling and how much you loved Stone Cold Steve Austin, and the way you taught me to punch without breaking my hands. I think of your hopes for me - how I never lived up to whatever they were. And how desperately I tried. I think of you every time I cook, because God knows I didn't learn those skills from my mom.

And I think of that first computer you gave me when I was in elementary school, so I'd have a way to type my stories on MS-DOS and save them to old-school floppy drives. I think of that first romance novel you bought me when I was in sixth grade, and I smile when I think of what was in it; I know you had no idea. You were probably just proud to have a smart kid who loved books. I think of how you'd shake your head if you saw the stacks of books I've collected in the years since that first one, and I wonder if you ever read any of my work or if the rift we couldn't seem to mend made you steer clear.

I think of Joey running around in your jeans when she was little, and how you laughed when the legs trailed down the floor behind her. I think of the first time you held Eden, and your face as you marveled at her red hair, her blue eyes, so like mine.

I think of your cologne, and I wonder where that last bottle I used to keep ended up. I think of you every time I open my jewelry box and see the watch you used to wear, and sometimes when I stand in church, I miss the sound of your baritone just above my shoulder.

I wonder what those last ten years of your life looked like, and I'm sorry I'll never be able to ask. I hope you kept the faith that started mine. I hope you're there when I get to Heaven. And I hope, when I get there, that I'll get to know the version of you that you never got to be.

In the meantime, Dad, thanks for trying. Thanks for never giving up on anything you set your mind to, even if you did give up on me. Thank you for being the kind of man who taught me the value of learning and curiosity, and for the way my dog is the best dog ever because I learned how to train them from you.

Thank you for teaching me, always, to...

*song lyric from "Father," Demi Lovato