Still Finding the Words

IMG_20150620_123144Hey DooDad.

Thanks for being so cool about me not being home on Father’s Day, and thanks for supporting me in my escapades this summer. It means the world.

If you remember, two years ago I wrote a spoken word poem for Mother’s Day and shared it with our church. I immediately started thinking about how I had to do another one for you come June just to be fair, so I started writing right away. I didn’t get it finished in time, and I kept tweaking the whole year but still wasn’t happy with it the next time around. And here we are two years later, and it’s finished now but it’s still not quite completed.

I don’t know why it’s so hard to write one for you. All the words I want are there but when I read it over its just not quite right. Maybe because I don’t know what rhymes with “creepy old jorts” or know how to describe the smell of that fuzzy blue sweatshirt of yours or have a good adjective to explain how your hugs are my favorite thing to come home to.

Or maybe coming off of a week of camp where I met way too many kids who don’t know their father or just get a short phone call from him once a year, the gratefulness in my heart is growing too large to find its way out in words.

The poem is finished but not complete, so I’m not ready to give it to you yet. But here’s a stanza somewhere in the middle that I wanted to share with you today:

“I’ll never forget the moment I understood love
It was the day you told me
You will always be proud of me
no matter what I choose
No matter what I do.
And that means everything
To me.”

The things you’ve taught me and shown me and shared with me mean everything to me. Thanks for teaching me what love is by being my father. Thanks for showing me what it looks like to know Jesus. Thanks for sharing the best of your life with me. And thanks for shaping my life by your example and involvement and generous love. You mean everything to me. You’re a rock in my sometimes shaky life and I could never say thank you enough times. I’m still working on finding the right words. Maybe it will be finished by next year, or maybe it will be a poem I keep writing for my whole life.


1 Comment

  1. This is beautiful and I wish I could print it off and attempt to pass it off as my own…but that wouldn’t be moral or believable.


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