Saturday, December 3, 2011
Day 24- A Letter to My Parents
I had the opportunity yesterday to go back to the West Union building. It's been years--since Mom's funeral--since I was there. As I walked down the hall to the back of the church to leave, thoughts and memories of you came flooding back. I neared the bishop's office where you spent so much time for a number of years of your life. It was remarkable how suddenly the whole building was filled with great thoughts and feelings. I loved going down, after church, back in those days, and finding you there standing outside your office talking to everybody as they went by. Those were great times.
As I approached that area yesterday, there were people milling around, and I ran into the Fishers. We chatted for awhile. They both commented on what a wonderful bishop you were and how they miss you there. They made me promise that I'd tell you hello, so here I am. They weren't the only ones that asked about you. Everyone I ran into wondered where you were and how you were.
I ran into Sister Ellingson. Wow! I hadn't seen her in twelve years. She looked the same. Such a sweet lady with that twinkly smile (like mom's). I got to hug her and made sure to thank her for all the good she did for you and mom. I was glad I got that chance. What a sweet lady she is!
So many have touched our lives, huh Dad? Great people. I saw Frank and Sean and Drew. They all asked about you. Drew and I relived your Sunday School class and the dumb chair. It was funny but yours was the class we remembered best. We even remembered which classroom we met in. He said, "I remember your dad's class just because he was so funny." Yah, me too. Thanks Dad!
People approached me and shared thoughts of Mom. I still can't talk about her with others without getting a bit teary, but I'm getting so I can hide it pretty good. At the funeral yesterday, somebody said something along the lines of there being a hole that's been created by the death and they wonder if that hole will ever go away. As they said it, I thought, yah, I wonder if it ever does. Part of me doesn't want it to because then she'll be gone, and I don't want her gone. I want her to always be here. I think you understand that feeling better than anyone I know. I'm glad that I can share that with you.
Dad, I just want you to know that I love you. You're the "spay-shal"ist guy I know. I notice you don't say it like that any more. Sad.
I love that you have always taken the time for me. Thank you! I know you won't always be here and the thought makes me so sad, but I was happy yesterday to realize that there will be places I can go and people I can think of and talk to that will remind me of you and bring back the sweet memories and feelings I have sitting in my heart just for you. You have left a mark on so many but especially me.
I'm so happy to be your daughter--it's an honor. I'm so glad you're still here so my kids can spend time with you and eat your hot cakes and listen to your jokes. Thank you for the time you spend with them. I just wish there was more of it. We'll have to do something about that in 2012.
You, in my mind, are all that a dad should be. Thank you! I love you Dad!