Treasured Reminders of a Treasured Dad
What his tentative, misspelled letters from 30 years ago speak to me even today
One of my most-treasured possessions is a letter I received from my dad in 1974. Written on yellowed paper from a spiral-bound notebook, it’s probably the only letter he's ever written. That makes it treasured. That makes it priceless.
In draftsman’s block lettering, he wrote:
Dear Nancy,
Here we are at Catalina again. This is are third day here . . . . As you know, I’m not much of a letter writer, so this one well probly take about three days.
I’d been in San Antonio, Texas, at Air Force basic training. My dad wrote from our family’s favorite vacation spot, Catalina Island, off the California coast.
When I received his letter, I was shocked even before I opened it. I knew what a chore it must’ve been for him. No, chore isn’t the right word. Sacrifice, maybe, and definitely a risk.
My dad is an extremely smart and talented, self-made man. He can take apart any machine or structure and put it back together, and it’ll be better. But he’s not good with words or emotions.
He grew up rough. His mother worked all the time and had a succession of husbands and boyfriends. If they liked my dad, he could stay in the house. If they didn’t, my dad went to an orphanage.
He dropped out of school in the eighth grade. I’m not sure what he did after that, probably worked. Above all, my dad is a hard worker. Even at 75 and long-retired from his career as a tool and die maker, he builds houses in Mexico, where he and my mom live.
As a dad, he did his best. He mostly worked, but we all went to the beach together on Sundays, and once he accompanied me to a Girls League father-daughter dinner where we played jump-rope relay races. He taught me things like “righty-tighty, lefty-loosey.” He doesn’t yet know Jesus, and I’ve prayed for his salvation every day for the past 30 years. He’s my dad.
I enjoy your letters very much and read them over and over again, he wrote. It’s a shame how we don’t realize how much we love someone until they are hurt, sick or away. I miss you very much. Well, that’s enough mush.
The next day he wrote about waiting for my mom to get out of the bathroom and watching my youngest brother sleep.
I think about you quite often, but of course I always have. Between you and your baby brother, most of my family thinking time has been taken up. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining. Just reminiscent.
Another treasured possession is a business flyer spotlighting my dad and a machine he made. He’d autographed the photo of himself for me, which still makes me laugh.
We always teased him about that photo, with his dark hair and white sideburns. He used to say that one sideburn was white from worrying about me and the other was white from worrying about my brother.
His third and last day of writing produced the shortest page and the sweetest words:
This is my third day of writing and you know what? I really enjoy it. There are so many things I’d like to say but at the rate I put them on paper it would take three months not three days. I’m very proud of you. No parent could ask for more than that.
He ended with:
I miss you very much, you little twit.
Love always, Dad.
Dads probably shouldn’t call their daughters twits, but I know he did it with deep affection. My dad often reverts to making jokes when things get mushy. We rarely, if ever, have had any truly personal conversations, which is as much my fault as his.
He’s emotionally cautious and distant, in a friendly, gregarious way. He’s a lot of fun, but not very parental, if that makes any sense. As a result, it’s been difficult to understand God the Father being actively interested in me—but I’m learning.
Still, my dad took us trick-or-treating, showed us how to skim rocks across water, and how to make matzoh ball soup.
And he wrote me a letter more than 30 years ago, which I’ve carried with me all these years, and which I’ll keep carrying until the day I die.
Tell us about your dad. How does your relationship with him affect how you view God as Father?
Posted at 9:38 AM on November 5, 2008.
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Nancy,
What a wonderful story! My dad is still here with me but is completely bedridden from MS. He has a trachea-ventilator breathing tube and a stomach feeding tube. He can not talk with us, but we have learned to read his lips! Years ago, as a child when my did first learned of his MS, he wrote poems. They were about God and how he loved the Lord, about his childhood, experiences in the hospital, all different things. He wrote one called "The Teenager's Prayer" and dedicated it to me. I used to type all his poems for him, to give to people to read, but I still have the original, handwritten copy of "The Teenager's Prayer". It is over 30 years old and will always be very special to me! I have a very loving dad, even to this day, even with his disability, he still shows his children and grandchildren that he loves them! I know that my dad immulates our Heavenly Father! He was tough on his 3 girls too! We didn't get by with too much at all, and we knew we shouldn't try! Just like with God, we know what we should and shouldn't do! Thank you for the article! It brought back some wonderful memories for me!
Posted by: Beth on November 7, 2008
My Dad, it would take more than 1500 characters to tell you about him. He has been with Jesus for 18 years now.
He taught me almost everything I know, except for how to play the guitar but he was very proud that I could play and sing. When I was 5 he taught me how to drive the tractor so he could feed the cattle, even if I was a girl. He taught me how to swing a hammer and carry cinder blocks as he was building houses during my pre-teen years. I could go on and on.
Dad was hard of hearing even with a hearing aid but that didn't stop him. He worked hard and loved completely. His family and his love for God were his life.
The most important thing of all he and my Mom taught me, was to love God. Dad was always reading to learn more about God as well as show God's love to others. He was bold in talking to others about Christ which made me uncomfortable as a teen.
Dad was the person we all went to when we had a question about something in the Bible. He loved to find us answers if he didn't already know them.
Since he isn't here anymore, we all have had to learn how to find those answers ourselves, so I guess he is still teaching us all these years later.
Today I strive to be more like my Dad, loving, kind and bold in my faith.
I am sadden that my grandchildren do not personally know their great-grandpa but I do know we will someday have a great reunion together in heaven.
Posted by: Deb Bonsall on November 7, 2008
This was lovely, touching, thank you. So often we overlook and underappreciate the older generation that has given up so much for us. We think that because they can't spell well, or because they're not spilling their emotions all over the ground like the common trends, that they must not be as smart or as good at things as the young people. If we could only see their experience and really understand their values, we'd be a nation better off.
Posted by: Dena on November 7, 2008
My dad is one of the best father in the whole world. He sacrificed a lot for his family and tried his best to keep the family intact. Probably, no man had made such an impact as my dad did in my life by the way he showed his devotion and love toward his kids and family.
One of my pleasures in life is watching him with my mom and still had that deep passion and devotion to each other.
I thank God for his life.
Posted by: EMY on November 7, 2008
My dad is a retired military man. Even though he was always busy, he still tried to have time for his kids. He loved us so very much and was always there for us when we were growing up. I remember my 1st day of boarding school-my dad took me there. I remember him dropping me off in the university. What i admire most about him is the fact that despite my mom having manic depression and always attacking him both verbally and physically, he continues to stand by her and support her; making me see that marriage is a sacred institution by those who take their vows of for better for worse seriously- even though they were never married in church and dad is not yet a Christian. Your article serves as a reminder that i have to keep praying for my dad to surrender his life to Christ and my mom to be totally healed. I'm still praying to God to give me a christian man with all the good qualities of my dad.
Posted by: Stella on November 8, 2008
The above URL is a a story I wrote about my dad. I am sad when I think of how distance we still are, but this story is a reminder to me that, although he is a difficult man, and grows more so over the years, I have a special place in his heart.
Posted by: Heather on November 8, 2008
I believe our relationships with our earthly dads definitely influence our relationships with the Lord. I must say, my heart overflows as I read this--I have so much to be thankful for. My dad is a quiet pillar of strength, a great example of love, humor, support, and guidance that helps me to view God in a healthy way.
Posted by: Molly on November 9, 2008
Nancy, what a beautiful story. I too received a letter from my dad who was there physically, but not emotionally. He was dying of cancer and making amends with his four children when I received the letter from him. I often felt that if he could have been more open with his love and feelings for me, I wouldn't have looked for it some where else. Ten years ago, I found out what my dad's childhood was like and was then able to better understand why he had such a hard time because his dad wasn't there for him either. It is by the grace of God that he lived as long as he did and that now I can receive the love from my heavenly Father that my dad so truly wished to give me, too! I can't wait to see him again in heaven!
Posted by: Ruthann on November 10, 2008
my dad is a wonderful man that i can nver forget. He is well and alive and i still thank God for his life. He has never failed to show me love in any possible way he can. He has taught me how t do so many things;most of all he has tauht me to love God.
Posted by: Oma on December 2, 2008
I could use some help here. My father while responsible and loving, never showed any affection. When I would ask my parents if they loved me thay would say things like "there's a roof over your head and clothes on your back". Our family never hugged, not do I remember or maybe just never accepted praise from my parents. I grew up looking for that praise and acceptance. It has turned me into a perfectionist. I'm not knocking my parents; my dad was a real softie underneath, but I never recognized that until I was an adult. I know my parents loved me, but I struggle with my concept of God. I see him mostly as someone just waiting to squash me when I do something wrong. I know I can't earn God's love, but I struggle with my high expectations and perfectionism for myself. I wish and pray that I could know a kind, supportive and loving heavenly Father, but somehow it doesn't reach my heart.
Posted by: Jan on December 2, 2008
Thank you for such a heartwarming story. Your dad sounds so much like my own. He also was a tool and die maker...interestingly. Since this is Christmas Eve that I write this...I am deeply thoughtful of my past and my parents. I miss them. I was fortunate to have my dad about 13 years longer than I had my mom. He, also, was a hard worker and had a great sense of humor. I am the youngest of 4 and he always referred to me as "the baby". Even when I was a mother of 2...he would still tell people that when he would introduce me. It always brought a smile to my face.
During the Christmas season...I miss both of my parents but especially daddy...he always spent Christmas day with my family and my kids loved him so much.
Thank you again for allowing me to remember all those little things that stay deep within our hearts.
Posted by: Rose on December 24, 2008