Dear Dad - Christmas 2005

Dad,

Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays. I received your 2 letters and Birthday card (Thank you. It was a nice card) and mobile for our son. We just returned from FL, where my wife surprised me with a fun trip with several friends who all flew down for my 30 year milestone. Now that we’re back, I have a few relatively still moments this afternoon, so I wanted to sit down and write you.

So, I’m 30 now. And nothing changed. Nothing changed dramatically, or all at once that is... but in turning 30, I’ve grown and stretched a lot in the past months. There are many things I could write about, but I think I will start here. I feel some risk in sharing some of the following things, as they are personal, and we’ve only exchanged a few words over the years. Additionally, I hesitate, as my mind recalls our previous exchanges that ended abruptly. Still, I think it may be helpful to share some things from the inside.

My recent journey has been marked by a learning how to embrace both the joys and sorrows of life. My signature happy approach was not resolving the dissonant notes or disappointments. I needed to move beyond my idealistic hopes towards reality (both the joys and the sorrows). My recent journey has been a hard season of questions, and restless pursuit. I’ve struggled with the description of God, where He calls himself Father. What is your memory of your Father? I only have a few memories of him. Tall, warm, with silver hair. Raking in the garden… and a few Birthday or Christmas memories that play back like 8mm film reels with no sound and wiggly horizontal lines that blur the image. I remember one time, when I was 10 or 11 when I woke up and was crying because Grand pop died. I don’t think I understood, but I must have sincerely missed him. Do you think about him much, anymore? I must have a poor memory, because it’s hard to remember a lot of things.

What are your memories of your relationship with your dad? Most of my friends have strained relationships with their Dad’s, and many of them struggle with why God chooses to describe himself in such a problematic way. Does that make any sense to you? Just so you know, I’m not into the ever-so-popular “blame your parents for everything that not perfect” philosophy; but let’s face it, you and me… we fall into the “strained relationship” category. I’ve considered recently, how little I really know you- and your back-story. Like any son, I wish to hear the stories told and connect the dots between history, memory, and the many things I’m sure I don’t really understand. But part of my story line, and struggle has been with the way our Father-son relationship has gone.

So that’s part of where I’ve been. Striving to live authentically, struggling to know God as Father, curious about you and your story… and wondering how all these things connect. Meanwhile, I am much more inclined these days to forgive and forget the nuances of the past. Years have added understanding and compassion. I am not bitter or angry (at least not on most days). Life goes on, right? With the Father-son struggle, I am a man striving to become a good dad and focused on drawing nearer to the Father-part of God. I think it may be the most important aspect of God for me right now, and maybe for all boys as they become men. I just struggle with seeing Him that way, as Father. But I want to. Don’t you? When I pray with my son before bed, I sometimes ask God… “Is it possible that you are to me as I am to my son?” This has been my journey. Have you ever felt the freedom (The curiosity of a 4 year old looking at the stars, where there are no stupid questions and everyone just loves the innocence and honesty) to ask every and any question? Why are questions so threatening and not celebrated? Personally, I’ve found God to have broad shoulders, and not offended in the least. In fact, I’m convinced that he’s smiling on my pursuits. I found a circle of friends who are also working through their stories and struggles and unafraid to be real… really real. Humiliating stuff, dark stuff. We are all messy people, right? Sure, it’s easier to be happy and put together. It’s easier to just not ask questions and just pretend that we are close with God. I am realizing that God loves messy people, and poor people, and not so much religious people or strong people. It’s quite freeing to realize that there really is someone out there who prefers me straight up, 100% honest, even if it’s messy. So, I’m subscribing to this commitment to being real and embracing reality & authenticity. So, there I am. Probably feels heavy and maybe I said too much. How about you? Oh, if you want to close this letter now, no worries. I understand… I realize I kind of put my cards on the table, but it’s important for you to understand who you are writing to – and where I am – so we can see how to proceed.

If you resonate with what I’m saying, also consider that my recent journey is responsible for both my increased interest in reaching out to you, and my continued reservations and fears. See, part of me being real and not pretending is being real and not pretending with you and with our story. Every time I get a letter from you, I am welcome it, but am conflicted. One part excited, hopeful and wanting to re-connect. One part reminded of the past, disappointed, and stung by the fact that we have not been very good at being real or speaking from our hearts in our family, and thus there is still much unresolved. But now being real is central to relationship and matters SO much to me, and I think you can understand that. Maybe, like me, your memory is not so good and even now as you read my letter, you strain to understand why I’ve stayed away and why the other kids struggle as well. Where have we been? Where have you been? Relevant questions, right? I talk with them all fairly regularly- and still very much a family. I think we’ve all tried to convey our points of struggle and relational requirements for if/how to proceed. So far, it does not seem like we’ve been able to agree upon a space where both of us feel comfortable. I would like to say that my heart would be fully open if you were open with me… if you were real about the whole of our family story. My impression is that it is too hard for you, and you want to try to build a relationship based on today forward (and never address or discuss the past). I respect your wishes, but I can’t do that. It’s too much a part of our story. And it’s all radically ok (the messy parts of our story) IF we can together be honest and grow. Is my impression correct, or do I have it wrong?

Either way, and however you chose to take my letter’s expression and honest questions… I wish you a Merry Christmas. May we both find peace on earth. We need it. May we both find love, hope, and joy!

Dear Dad - May 2005

May 2005

Dear Dad,

Hello from a southwest airplane traveling north from Florida to Nashville. I’m squeezed in the 8th row, between two other men, just like everyone else, as the flight is packed without a seat to spare. It’s nighttime, so everything outside is dark except for the sparse reminders of civilization below – with their flickering house lights and dim car lights slowly moving in a linear fashion.

Back on the ground, most people are celebrating “Mothers Day”. Earlier, I was with Kim and her Mom and family for the occasion. Good times and I even have a tan to show for it.

So, back up here with my laptop, I took the opportunity to sort through some documents filed away, and came across my last letter to you. I reread it, which prompted me to write again. I’m going to be direct, so bear with me here. Your reply was interesting, and I appreciate the historical facts and story line of where I, and you came from. Your reply was also perplexing, in that you did not respond to the many other questions I asked, or even acknowledge that I opened up to you with a heart felt letter. In most situations, one would assume that the audience (in this case you) is not interested or does not care. Please clarify, as I do not know how to respond to your correspondence

Sincerely,