To My Dad

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 15^th. 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 15^th - 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 9^th. 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 28^th, 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