I Remember You

Too many of my generation grew up fatherless. Too many of us have those memories of holidays and special events being just another reminder that our families were wracked, torn apart, broken.

But a few of us got lucky. We found someone that stepped into an empty hole left by somone else and while they did not seek to fill the void, they make it less hollow, less empty.

Today, that emptiness echoes loudly with memories of you.


Today, I search through the images and words that have taken root because of your example, your patience, your dogged determination to be a teacher that lives what they teach.

I remember the kindness that says, "you'll do better next time." I remember the persistence to let me fall down again and again and not "fix" it for me. I remember the willingness to let me struggle with my fledgling faith so that it can truly be my very own. As I watch my own kids embrace their own questions, I realize for the first time how much grace, how much love this act took for you. I'm learning it is far easier to tell someone what to think than to teach them how to.

Once, I told you "thank you" and you accepted this with simple gratitude and a commission. Keep going, keep asking, keep looking.

Today, I promise you, I will.