Letter to my Dad

Hey kids, this is a repeat.  When I was working for the Pocahontas Star herald from 2000-2014, I had a weekly sports column.

The week before Father's Day in 2006, I wrote this column for my dad, just trying to express some things I perhaps hadn't said.  He was surprised by it and severely told me to be sure I write a similar column for Mother's Day the following year.  Which I did.

I saved the column, and I'm glad I did.  Dad died three years later.

So I searched my archives, dusted it off, and thought I would print it again.  From June 2006, 19 years ago, my Father's Day column to my dad.

Dalton

=======================

 Dear Dad,

It's me your oldest son.  You know, the one who writes for a living.

You know Father's Day is coming up this Sunday, so I thought I would say a few things that maybe I haven't said, or of I did say them, I need to say them again.

First, let me say thank you for being a Dad that always encouraged me where sports were concerned, and never put me down or tried to make me something I wasn't, or tried to push me.   You didn't try to live your life through me.  You let me be a kid and enjoy the game.   I think the only rule you had was if I started the season, I had to finish the season.   For that I am very grateful.

I have a lot of pleasant memories from when I was playing little league.   I remember how cool it was that you helped coach my little league teams.   I can recall that some of our games started at 6, and you would have to rush to the game, sometimes just meeting us there.   I loved having you around for those games.    I always thought I was pretty special in the eyes of my teammates because my dad was one of the coaches.

Another memory that I have cherished for the last 40 years was playing catch after dinner during the summer.  I was young and self-centered, and only thought about myself.   I didn't even think about the fact that you had been at work all day, were tired, and might want to sit and rest awhile, or talk to Mom, or possibly read the paper.

I wanted to play catch with you, and once the dinner dishes were done, I would beg you to come out back and play catch with me.  There I would stand by your chair, with two gloves and a baseball.  "Come on Dad," I would say, "let's go play catch."  And you always did.

I know there were probably some times when there were pressing issues that needed your attention and you couldn't, but in the mind of your 49-year old son, you always made time for me.

We would go out back and play catch for 20 or 30 minutes.  Sometimes we would talk about the Cardinals, or my little league team, sometimes we wouldn't say
much at all.  You know, it really didn't matter.  I was doing what I wanted to do, with whom I wanted to do it.

Do you remember that sometimes I would ask you to throw flies to me or throw grounders?   Remember I played second base, so I needed a lot of practice fielding ground balls.  I remember those times like they were yesterday.  Those are memories I never, ever want to lose.

 
How is it, that you were always able to get Cardinal tickets?   I loved going to the games and would not sleep the night before.  I remember going to a lot of "Bat nights", where they would give out bats to the kids.   Barry and I would get our bats, and hold them tightly as we fell asleep on the way home.

I've tried to be a good Dad like you.   It has been tough, but every time Barclay and I are playing catch, which we do as often as we can, I think of all the times you played catch with me when I know you really didn't want to, or you may have wanted to, but had other things you needed to do.    I didn't understand that then, but I do understand it now.

Our children are precious, and we need to make time for them.  We have a responsibility to them, to love them, to be there for them, to encourage them.  Those are just some of the lessons I learned from you on how to be a Dad. 

I am very proud of you and have always been proud to be your son.   I hope I have passed along some of the lessons you have given me to Barclay and Clayton.

I love you.  Happy Father's Day!

Dalton