A Father's Gifts

One of the things I miss most about my dad’s early passing is the fact that Taggart and Sage will never have the chance to really know him.  To experience his love and inimitable presence.  Yes, I can and do share his values and ideas. Yes, I carry part of my dad within me so they too carry him . . . but still . . . it’s not the same as him coming for a visit.  One that’s much anticipated and looked forward to – a countdown of weeks and days. Having toast and coffee in the early morning with us.  Him reading with Sage. Playing catch or HORSE with Taggart in the driveway.

I like to imagine us going to visit him on the 40 acres of off-the-grid land he lived on in Northern Michigan.  My kids getting to see his tee-pee or open-air outhouse.  Looking for morel mushrooms with him in the forest.  Talking about books or music they like (and believe me, for all the pop my kids love, my dad would know the music and artists and likely turn Taggart and Sage onto something new in the process).

As the kids and I make cards for Jeff and his dad this week-end, I imagine the Father’s Day card Taggart and Sage might craft for my dad. I’d encourage them to think about what is special about him and to tell him so he knows what he means to them.

It might go something like this:

Grampa Gerry – we love you because you play catch in the yard with us.  You listen to me (Sage!) sing and we like the three chords you strum on the guitar. We think it’s really funny how you can tick our mom off – and you don’t even get sent to your room! We love you because you share your potato chips with us (and mom never buys us those)! We love you because you have long hair and we don’t know any other old guys with long hair! Are you an Indian or something? Grampa Gerry, we wish you would quit smoking.  Don’t you know smoking’s bad for you.  Grampa Gerry, please don’t smoke anymore, OK?  Because we love you. BTW, we think it’s really cool that you know about Ed Sheeran and Kanye West (our dad pronounced it like Kane – we know you wouldn’t do that!).  Happy Father’s Day to a loved Grampa.  Love you from there to here and here to there! (as Sage recently wrote in a card . . . she has her grandfather’s way with words, which makes my heart smile!) 

My dad wrote me a number of cards and letters and I think I have almost every one of them tucked in various places.  I stumble upon them periodically, almost as if called to that message on any given day.  Yesterday, it was a letter he had written me almost twenty years ago after I asked him about our ancestry and family traditions.  His response was this:

You’ve got me thinking about what traditions your ancestors have passed along to you . . . Spirituality and music are at the top of the list. Athletics and an intellectual strain would be included. What else – the love of singing, a poignant lyric, a tendency toward poetry – the perfect word in the right place – the appropriate description of anything. The priority and love of children – our real future – our only future. The wonder of a country scene or city street, rain or shine. Snow on the hills – the love of rivers, hills, and lakes – Michigan means “turtle” in Ojibwa – what does Tennessee mean?

The beauty of a kid waiting for a school bus – a person on a bench – at our best, the wonder of the day . . . toast and coffee – lunch with a friend – I haven’t mentioned DANCING in the dining room or wherever to a song we love, remember. Horses in the pasture – Alice Walker’s Horses Make a Landscape More Beautiful – the curiosity about how things work and the things we see and hear when our eyes and ear are open . . . everything is beautiful when we pay attention.

 . . . We have tried to give you a common sense approach to right and wrong. You don’t need a law degree to figure it out or a master’s degree or a Ph.D. I read recently in a Sufi book that the only sin is waste . . . I’ll lighten up, Meg. Solar is good. Windmills are nice. Log cabins. Teepees. Organic gardens, orchards, vineyards, pastures, forests. Bicycles, baseball, soccer, a good book, a water-color, a swift, clear creek or stream, horses, cows . . . a hug, a swim, a sweat lodge, friends, work you love and believe in, the respect of those you respect, love, a warm shirt on a chilly day, moccasins, good socks, a Navajo rug – is that enough to keep your generation occupied? – A guitar, piano, banjo, clogging. Nurturing the kids around us to the best of our ability. That’s the weight you’ve been given and it’s not always easy but mostly you’ll sleep well at night. It’s all always for the kids, right?

I’ll never forget your basketball-track days. It will take you awhile to truly comprehend how beautiful the Suttons Bay relays really were – whether you won or lost – but of course, your team set a record. But aside from the setting on Lake Michigan, it was just you healthy kids running with the wind in bright colors. Nothing could be simpler or better. I think of you everyday.
                                                     Peace and Love, Dad

As a tribute to my dad on Father’s Day, I am sharing this for all the loved dads and loved grandfathers who have passed. And for those whose fathers and grandfathers are still here: please, pick up the phone, give them a call, have your kids make them a card . . . spend a day with them if you can.  If there is distance, reach out. Build a bridge. Find a connection again.

One way or another, let them know they are SO loved (from there to here and here to there). Wherever they may be (Amen).