To My Father

Hey Dad. It was all small talk between me and you, and right now, I wish we talked more. You had all sorts of ideas and dreams, and I don’t know, maybe I wasn’t in the same level of thinking.

I guess I was used to just maintaining the status quo. You weren’t mad at me, and I was just happy for that. No, content with that – well, fine. Happy. Happy because the prevalent thoughts i had were that you would snap at the drop of a hat. But God knows you probably wanted a deeper conversation with your youngest son, and even when you were barely with us, wasting away, I still had trouble sitting down and talking to you. We never had those heart to heart talks, and right now, it’s something I wish we had.

It’s sad that I only look up to you now that you’re gone. Had I only known earlier, had I only understood that that’s how you were wired – with an intimidating approach – we would have known more about each other. Had I not approached you with trepidation and fear, and if I only knew and understood that underneath it all, you loved our family so much…

Well, for one thing, I wouldn’t be as content in the comfort zone. Mom was the best in ensuring that we were loved, but man, now that I think about it, I would have taken the greatest of advice from you. I would have enjoyed your special brand of love that would surely get me out of my ass, to just go forth and conquer.

All this talk I have now, all these thoughts in my mind that beg for a proper mentor – Dad, you would have been such a great one for me, if I only read between the lines and knew where you were coming from, instead of making all sorts of assumptions and instead of looking at you as a Colonel more than a Dad.

I am so sorry. I know I hurt you in so many ways, and just to know, just to know that even in spite of this, you loved all of us so much, to the best of your capacity.. it still gets to me.

I miss you so much. I can only look forward to seeing you again in eternity.

I want to be a husband like you. Loving and loyal to your wife.

I want to be a father like you. Uncompromising, sure to speak your mind, not to uphold your stance more than to stress your perspective to your children, whom you know will make decisions – some good, maybe mostly bad. I remember that time you stood up for me when I crashed into that one parked car, even after you warned me that I clearly wouldn’t make that turn. I was waiting to get hell from you, but when you calmly spoke to the guard and handled everything, that stuck to me. Still sticks to me now. You had our backs through it all.

Dad, more than anything, you were real. You respected us, loved us with your best by being who you are, no more, no less. I got your brash sense of humor, but at the same time I got your approach to diplomacy and power. I got the orderly mind you had when plotting out logistics, but at the same time I got your desire to play, as in golf, and your time as a tenor.

You were who you were to us, and for this, I am thankful. I am my father’s son, indeed. I can’t wait to see you again. Can’t imagine this being the last letter I write to you. I love you so much.

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