Dad,
I don’t know what I am doing. I am writing this letter to
you, even though I can’t even see through my tears, and even though you won’t
ever get a chance to read it. It is hard. I am still in a state of shock.
Lindsey called me and told me what happened. I didn’t really fully understand
what she was saying. I didn’t believe the words. How could it be true? It
doesn’t make sense.
I know we didn’t always have the best relationship. I know I
blamed you for a lot of things. I know I wish things had been different at
times. But you know what? None of that matters. I forgave you long ago. Sure,
some things still affect me, but I don’t have any negative feelings toward you.
I only love you. That is all that is left in my heart: love.
The last time I spoke to you was April 15th. I
know this, not only because my phone shows that as my last call to you, but
because I remember bugging you about my taxes. I know tax season is always
crazy for you, so I didn’t want to add more stress to your life. You left a
message that you had just finished my taxes - the evening of April 15th
- and that I owed $15 to the state of Utah. I called back and we chatted mostly
about stupid tax stuff. I am sorry if I acted annoyed that you didn’t finish my
taxes until the night they were due. I was concerned about getting fined over such a small amount. I wish I had known that would be my last
conversation with you. I would have talked about something more interesting. We
talked briefly about how we should do another camping or backpacking trip. Now
that will never happen. You ended the conversation by saying you loved me and were
proud of me. I am glad you said that to me the last time we talked.
The last time I saw you in-person was March 9th.
It was a Sunday afternoon, and we had pizza at Will and Lindsey’s house. I had
come out to visit everybody, and I had gone snowboarding the day before. It was
a very low-key event, and I almost fell asleep. I wish I had known it would be
the last time I would see you. Ben got to go out for his birthday on March 28th,
and I am glad he got to see you, even if it was just for an afternoon. I am
also glad I got to spend this last Christmas with you.
My mind is racing right now, and all I can think about is
things that will never happen now. I think of poor little June Bug, and Autumn,
and Jakob. You were so sweet to them, and they absolutely adored you. Now they
won’t get to see their grandpa anymore. That breaks my heart. You will never
get to see me get married, or Ben get married, or my children, or Ben’s
children, or other grandchildren that haven’t been born yet. We won’t ever get
to go on another backpacking trip, or another hunting trip, or fishing, or any
of that. If I ever go to scout camp again, it will never be the same. Those
were some of the best times I have ever had.
I am trying to not dwell on things that make me sad, so here
are some things that I learned from you or experienced with you that I will
always remember and cherish:
1. You taught me about the importance of service. You were
always the first to volunteer for something (and volunteer us boys). I didn’t
always appreciate chopping wood or helping families move on Saturdays as a kid,
but now I am very grateful for those experiences. Service is one of the most
important things to me, and that is ingrained in my heart because of you.
2. You taught me the importance of hard work. I owe
everything that I am to a lifetime of hard work, and I learned it from you.
3. You taught me how to be a man. I think it is safe to say
that I am a pretty manly man. I am pretty tough. I don’t have many fears. I
know how to take care of myself. And I owe that to you.
4. You taught me to always treat my mother with respect. I
remember specific occasions where you smacked me hard for talking back to mom.
Sure, we all tease each other playfully, but you taught me to respect her and
all she has done for me.
5. You taught me a ton of life skills, such as: how to
drive, how to change a tire, how to tie knots, how to navigate in the
wilderness if I am lost, how to find my way around a new city, how to cook, how
to chop wood and build a fire, how to take care of livestock, how to grow a
garden, how to do my taxes, how to deal with rude people, how to study, how to
manage my finances, how to run a small business, etc., etc., etc.
6. You introduced me to great music. I specifically remember
road trips where you would blast classic rock. By the time I was about 8, I
knew the lyrics to almost any song by Led Zeppelin, Boston, The Doobie
Brothers, The Eagles, Journey, Van Halen, Steve Miller, Bad Company, etc. That
is what started my interest in playing music.
7. Even though you weren’t that into the arts, you always
supported my interests. You put up with having a band in the garage from the
time I was 13. You laughed at my stupid “films” we started making in middle
school, and came to all the film festivals in high school and college. You had
my paintings, drawings, and photographs decorating your house.
8. You were the best Scout Master any kid ever had. There
are dozens and dozens of boys who would agree with me on that. You knew how to
let us have fun and be stupid boys without letting us get into too much
trouble. You taught us how to grow from boys into young men.
I could go on and on, but my I am having a hard time holding
it together right now. I know I will see you again, and I know you will be with
me in spirit during the important moments of my life. I know you will be
watching over your grandchildren too. I am glad you passed without much pain and
doing something you loved. I just wish it wasn’t so soon. I hope you know how
much I love you.
Love,
James
