In this series, I write letters to people in my life - past, present, and possibly future - without the tension of actually mailing them. See the original post about the new series for more info.
Dearest Dad,
There's no lie in the idea that fathers are the first and most important men in a daughter's life. For the past 39 years, I always felt safe in the love you have for me. I can count my disappointments on one hand with plenty of fingers left to spare. Those disappointments were always short-lived because forgiveness is an automatic mechanism that operates in our relationship.
You never hid your pride in having me for a daughter. In spite of the mixed criticisms and praise from mom, I developed a confidence with roots in the love you always express. After long days of construction work... with icicles hanging from your beard... you let me know my importance every time you used your tired arms to lift me into the air with a weary yet surprisingly bright sincere smile.
As mom told, and pictures confirm, you made sure we laid in the sunlight together whenever possible. You wanted your baby girl to get enough sun, right beside your protective side.
As I grew, your protective spirit towards me never changed. I'll never forget that day in 7th grade when I got my feelings hurt at a school dance. My date ran off with other girls, and you pulled your pump-action shotgun in response. The moment of fear I felt in that instant was quickly overcome by a deep love for your regard of my young feelings. As mom talked and you fumed, I got an early lesson about not settling for less.
When I entered young adulthood, you left our home to live with another woman. You didn't call or keep in touch. I was hurt until I realized you were mostly concerned that I'd reject your decision. I was wise enough to know that sometimes children need to reach out first. I visited you there and let you know I still loved you as my precious father. I didn't judge your relationship for two reasons: (1) I was relieved that you ended the tension with mom and (2) You didn't lose an ounce of value as my beloved father. We never lost touch again - even as you eventually grew out of your new romance.
As I made the leap from girl to woman, I watched you become an amazing grandfather. I smiled with eyes full of happy tears as love for me pour into my sons. They love you with the same energy that I do, and they're immensely blessed to be a part of your life.
As you grow older, I am forced to consider the day - hopefully a day far away - that you may no longer be a part of our lives. You don't know this, but I have cried advance tears at the thought of losing you to heaven's call. As I write, I cry them again. Know this:
Whenever the moment comes that you must face your own mortality, you leave behind a daughter who still sees you as the strong, protective, loving father who lifts her into the air as an endless expression of amazing love. Heaven must have a special place for premier fathers, and I'll see you there when I arrive.
I love you daddy. You're the best of the best.
The pen is a dangerous thing. With one flick of a wayward Bic, you can leave indelible evidence of your wisdom or produce an unwanted record of your ignorance. With one stroke, you can enlighten a day or usher in storm clouds of contention.
Either way, I have a pen in my hand today. I decided to take the age-old advice to start writing letters to the people in my life. Some letters represent hopes of squashing old hurts. Some letters signify my need to express love to somebody I may have neglected over the years.
Of course these letters will never see the blue-uniformed image of a US mailman. Time and circumstance may change the way I see things. A penned letter may become permanent (perhaps damaging) evidence of an old thought kept mercilessly alive in somebody's underwear drawer.
So I’ll send them in my mind… all returned to sender for Insufficient Postage.
I suspect this series will feature a multitude of tears, fears, and cheers as forgotten memories begin flooding the pages. Names will be changed to protect the guilty and the innocent. But I’m sure if anybody knew to find me here, they’d also recognize themselves in my growing pile of returned mail.
Won’t you join me over the next several weeks?
Heidi posted another great piece at the Fitting Words blog. This time, she got more personal than usual about her fight with fear, and she asked that her readers provide some input.
I didn't start my response to Heidi as commentary on relationships, but the end product mentions "letting go," which is something we don't do well when it comes to friends and lovers. Once I was done basically blogging in her comments, I decided to share my rambling here.
Enjoy.
=====================
Warning… I think I’m feeling philosophical again. lol
Fear is a useful and necessary emotion. It helps us to preserve life in the face of danger. It’s the meter that lets us know we’re in danger in the first place!
When left unchecked, fear can rule in our efforts to preserve more than life and limb… Preserve our pre-conceived notions…. Preserve our expectations… Preserve the control we want to have over the random things of life. This unchecked fear is a misuse and abuse of the proper function for fear, and I believe we have a choice in letting fear out of the cage… or not.
I may not be the best advisor here, because I fight with fear in many forms… most notably… fear of failure and fear of what others, mostly mom, think of me.
BUT, whenever I can dance to a small victory over fear, I can say faith was my fighting buddy. Whether it is faith in God’s benevolence, karma, or the way the universe always seeks a level – I believe I am always where I should be. If a job falls through… that means something better is coming. If a friendship fails, I can accept that his/her precious role in my life came to an end.
In doing this, I find that there are no “bad” situations. Just learning experiences – many of which reveal the lesson as time goes on. In times where faith fails, I tap my own reserve tank with one reality: Allowing a situation to steal my joy is like sticking a knife in an open wound. I become the force making the situation much worse than it should be — which makes me the author of unnecessary additional suffering.
The rare times I want to wallow and let joy chill on ice… well… those times don’t last long. There’s nothing like feeling the power of letting something go.
=====================
How do you battle, win, and/or lose against fear?
Kenya Stevens of JujuMama LLC left an interesting post on her Facebook wall today:
The nature of monogamy is selfishness. Most people would gladly have another lover, but what kills the dream is they would have to accept the same scenario. They deny themselves to further deny the one person they profess to love most. That to me is the real drive behind infidelity, the selfishness, and wanting to keep... your lover in darkness while you explore the light. (via Shannon Roberts)
Now I love Kenya's unconventional approach to strengthening relationships and her book is in my Amazon shopping cart for quick purchase this Friday. But her recent statement ate at my thoughts until I replied on her page and moseyed here for more commentary.
My original message to Kenya:
I don't agree that monogamy is selfish in itself. Pretending to be monogamous while cheating on a partner that you told something different is selfish. When both agree on the structure of their relationship -- that's harmony.
My His Side values monogamy as much as I do. As such, we have harmony in that area. Isn't it better to say that either ... See Moremodel works... so long as it is a shared value & desire?
Footnote: Monogamy does have its virtues... like the possible resulting children, the possible shared disease, etc. since there's no 100% method of preventing both. Discounting one structure to promote the other denies the value to those who chose it.
I couldn't resist spilling this conversation into this blog, because monogamy is central to my desire in a relationship. Kenya chronicled her journey into sharing her husband's goodies on her old blog, and it was clear it took a long time for the choice to sit well in her soul. That alone tells me that she clearly had a different preference for her marriage - which also features young children. As far as I was concerned, it took a pretty selfish motive on her husband's part to ask her to endure the ordeal.
What say you, or dear readers? Hit us in the comments.
Footnote: This blog will feature a book review of Kenya's book "Change Your Man: How to Become the Woman He Wants." I agree with Kenya's premise that men and women are different - and attempting to change your man via confrontation won't lead to harmony. I ordered her husband's companion book for His Side.
urcg42jm3k
Dearest Dad,
