An Open Letter From Dad to Dad

Dear Dad,

For years I believed you had all the answers. I believed you were a superhero. For crying out loud, I even believed you were a defensive driver with a sparkling record.

You sneaky bastard.

Now that I have joined the tribe called Dad, I have reassessed the position. At best, we are skilled actors. At worst, terrified frauds. Fatherhood is not an all-knowing powerful state, it's a high stakes improv class. On this stage, failure to execute a scene on the fly doesn't get us heckled, it results in physical or emotional pain for the person whose overall well-being is the success metric of our own legacy.

I finally get it. I finally understand your joy, your pride, your love. Most of all, I understand your fear. In the face of that fear, I hope to display half your patience and courage. 

Armed with a new perspective, I don't want to simply wish you a Happy Father's Day. I want to give you two gifts I have denied you too often - appreciation and apology:

I am sorry I didn't earn your support often enough, but thank you so much for always giving it anyway...

Thank you for saving newspaper clippings of my accomplishments between the ages of 5 and 18. I am sorry the six occasions I appeared in the paper between the ages of 19 and 22 were not merit-based...

Thank you for helping shield me from the gory details of divorce when I was too young to understand them. I am sorry for not seeking your side of the story when I became old enough...

I am sorry for putting all my energy into being an average baseball player, while underachieving in the classroom. Thank you for making me feel like a superstar by never missing a single game...

Thank you for helping me settle into my first home. I am sorry my friends and I absolutely DESTROYED that place. Thank you for working around the clock to help fix it back up when the party finally ended...

I am sorry you were given the task of delivering the news to Ben and I when Mom took her life. Thank you for being there for us every single second since...

Thank you for talking me out of towing my car behind a moving truck that I was hardly qualified to drive in the first place. I am sorry I used the truck to move to a city with such awful traffic...

Thank you for having all the answers that mattered. I am sorry I suggested you aren't a superhero in the first paragraph. You are every bit the hero I hope to be to my son.

Happy Father's Day.

Love,

Blake