Handwriting

Today I received a hand written letter from my dad. My roommate checked the mail before I got home and when I got home I saw my dad’s handwriting sitting on the dining room table. My eyes lit up – I couldn’t wait to read it. My dad and I have struggled to have a real conversation for a long time. We have not actually talked in years. Words have been spoken, but never communicated. I miss him, and I knew in that letter would be words from dad, true words.

Since I can remember, my dad would write me letters on my birthday, most of the time from sea. The letters had titles like “In the middle of the Gulf” and “Somewhere in the Atlantic.” He was a tug boat captain when I was growing up, so often times he was at sea on my birthdays. We always celebrated when he got back though, usually with a trip to Outback Steak House indulging in a Sinful Sundae.

Reading the letter today with the title “26 days” brought back fond memories and was the start of us reconnecting again. May dad has shaped my life countless ways and has left many sparks burning brightly, and so many more to come.

Advertisements