Monday, March 12, 2012

an open letter to my Dad



Dear Dad,
How great to hear your voice and spend some time on the phone with you. I had promised myself not to cry, but joy will do that to you sometimes-I know it did us. And it brought back some precious memories, reminding me that the best ones aren't stored in the mind, but the heart.
I was about 4, and we were living on Westfield Road. For some reason a toy had been promised to me, and I remember you and Mom-she wasn't Chick yet, discussing how you were down to your last $2, but wanted to get me a toy. Going down to Drug Fair that night, in the store which later would become Bud's Cycle Center, I remember not wanting you to spend more, even if your heart wanted you to. I didn't understand numbers, but knew 2. You bought me a Tootsie toy rubber jeep, with trailer, and I remember how much fun I had with it, and the love it was bought with. I was careful playing with, and later as I learned the story of the widow giving her two mites, all she had, I recalled the love in a simple plastic toy that night. I would have many more toys growing up, but I never forgot that one, or you taking me to get it. A gift from a loving father to his only son.
I also remember walking with Chick to get your paycheck at school. We would stop by Martin's, and she would get me a stick pretzel for a penny. Then up all those stairs to your classroom, and how all the big kids-7th graders, would watch. You always made me feel like the most important person in the class, as a quick hug would send us off to the bank with it. Maybe the most important time I ever spent in a classroom.
I remember Saturday mornings when we bought the new house, and going to breakfast at the cafe at the Flying A station with you and Henry. While you had coffee, I had a bottle of 7UP, with a straw! A big event for breakfast for a 4 or 5 year old. And then trying to stay out of your way, so you and Henry could work on the upstairs. I didn't help much more than staying out of the way, but it was time well spent, just being with my dad. Somehow 7UP would never taste the same to me ever again, and when I drive by where the cafe was, I always remember those Saturdays. I still can see the before and after of the upstairs in my mind, playing before the walls were there. Maybe just one more trip to Hand Lumber and the smell of freshly cut wood...those were the days.
And I remember being sick and coming home from the hospital. You built me a garage for all my Tonka trucks, stained it red, even putting a roof on it using real shingles from the house. A special place to park special trucks-quietly deciding which ones got special treatment and were parked inside. And not one of my friends had one-just me! Not another one like it in the neighborhood. Built by you. Just for me. Bruce and Barry would have loved to own it!
So when I asked what I could do for you, and you said pray, I know you knew I would, and had been. Because it came from the heart. For relationships between a Father and a Son are special. And we are promised a long, rich life if we honor our Dad-and our Mother. God set the example with Jesus, His beloved son. He gave Him to us, so we could spend time with Him forever-in a religion free relationship. And Jesus honored His Dad in everything He did, including dying for us so we could know our heavenly Father. And that is my prayer-that you let Jesus show you how to spend time with God. No special prayers, services, rules or regulations. No religion-it's that personal. Just a simple crying out of "Jesus help me!" From the heart. Because like you love me, God loves you. Only in a much deeper and more intimate way. I can't describe it-it's that personal!
So let me add an amen to all you ask from God. God wants to have that special relationship with you, and it is available right now. And all you have to do is ask! For the best gifts will always be the ones from the heart of a loving Father. Given in love. In the person of His son, Jesus.
I have been very blessed to receive, now let God give to you the gift of His son. For the love of a Father is best expressed through His son, so all I can say is "thanks Dad, I love you." And enjoy the peace that surpasses all understanding in Jesus. The best gift that anyone can ever give-or receive. For the best things start in the heart-and only grow from there. A place where the memories are richest, where no mind could hold them, and no words can ever fully describe them. A place where the 7UP only comes in bottles with a straw. Where $2 toys are priceless, and all the trucks say Tonka. Where the smell of sawdust in in the air, and running up the stairs in school is fun, because you know who waits for you there. Where everyday is Saturday, and you never have to grow up. A place that when all the so-called important things are gone-the heart will still be full. And we look forward to spending time with our Dad in heaven. The best gift of all. Amen.
love with compassion, you son,
Michael
matthew25biker.blogspot.com