Wesley: Son, I still feel the same way.

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For Wesley – because you asked.

Hello, Wesley.

It’s January 10th, 2020. And I don’t know if you remember this, but I’m certainly anticipating you will.

I just found this in my notes on my laptop. It’s a note I had written to you a little over three years ago. I think I will just copy and paste here.

Yeah. That’s as good a place as any to start.

Wesley;

You’re 25 years old now; but I remember when you were little like it was yesterday.

I’ve been thinking about some of those moments today. And the reason I’m thinking about them is because you sent me a text a while back; in that text, you said,

“I remember when were young, you were doing this thing where you wrote letters to us to read later in our lives. Are you still doing that?”

Son, you wrote that text to me a good six months ago now. It is frustrating sometimes how time flies when you’re grinding out life. One of the biggest regrets in my life is that I never followed through very well on writing those letters. I still have one I wrote to your brother (Michael) when he was little. Sometimes, when I’m sorting through all the paperwork I have in my cluttered office, I see that. And sometimes, when I do, I cry.

You see, in all the busyness of life, in working, in trying to juggle all the balls in the air, and in trying to find my “place” and my identity in this world, writing those letters has always been one of those things I was “going to get to.”

But I realize that this is one of the best things I can do with what remains of my days on this earth before I go home someday to be with our heavenly father. If I can say this in a way that doesn’t sound selfish, I want to impact you in a way that you will miss me when I’m gone; at least just a little.

I also hope our relationship will always be healthy enough that you’ll not mourn too long when I go. A little is good. But just a little.

The main thing is that I want to be the kind of father to you that is worth being missed.

And so I want to embark here on a journey of writing to you guys about my thoughts about you, my dreams for you, all the things that keep me up sometimes at night asking our heavenly Father to fix and to bless and to carry you guys on to your ultimate goal in life – becoming men who seek hard after God’s heart.

I might send some of these to you when I write them; others, I might just park in a book for when I’m gone someday and your children are maybe missing me too – always in a good way, and never without hope that we will see each other again.

Son, you have no idea how much it hit me that you remembered the letters I said I was going to write to you. I had no idea that would be so significant to you that you would even recall my intentions to do so.

So I want this to be the first of many. Feel free to check up on me from time to time to see if I’m keeping up with it. If it’s important to you, I want it to be important to me.

I love you son. With all my heart I love you.

Thanks for asking.

Dad


It’s funny, son, that I just realized as I copied and pasted this note from over three years ago, that part of the problem for me has always been getting these things down without getting distracted by the tears that come. 

Young man, you’re pushing 30 soon. And I still remember when you were little like it was yesterday. And I still feel the same way. I love you bunches. I always did. I always will.

Love,

Dad

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