Dear Younger Me

May 14, 1985 

Dad died in the hospital today. Why, why, why, why, why? Why wasn't I taken instead? Mom, Karen, and the boys could live fine without me. How will any of us survive without Dad?

June 9, 2023 

Dear Younger Me, 

These are such good questions. Thirty-eight trips around the sun later, and I wish I could confidently give you good answers.

But, please, I can tell you this ...

Everything’s gonna be alright.

No, Dad won’t be at your high school graduation next week. But don’t ever forget how proud he was of you all.

He was the one gripping the fence, yelling and cheering the loudest at your track meets, wasn’t he? Especially thrilled with the speed of your relay teams and the height of your jumps?

I know … The pain right now is excruciating.

But, these nights when you can’t catch a breath? And you feel alone?

Remember you never are.

God is with you. He’s always been.

And there are so many people that love you.

They’re just afraid to say something wrong, so, unfortunately, they sometimes say nothing at all.

Losing Dad will make you different from your peers: When they’re going off the edge, reckless, not caring about tomorrow, you’ll have wisdom beyond your age.

You’ll view every person in a new light and develop an aching empathy for anyone struggling.

You’ll regard your college professors as human and will be crushed when you learn your former geometry teacher, with a wife and toddlers at home, is diagnosed with terminal cancer too.

You’ll comprehend what’s necessary and run to your friends when they’re hurting. And you’ll be the one others go to when they’re discouraged, needing advice.

They’ll ring you when they want words of prayer said at their family member’s wedding or funeral. Believe it or not, you’ll lose your fear of public speaking.

You and Mom will stop arguing, and you’ll spend decades trying to make things right for her. You’ll resent when she begins dating but regret when she throws in the towel, saying no man compares.

Your life has been shattered, but, year by year, it will be put back together.

Be patient with yourself and others.

Cry when you need to. (You will for months and months.)

A day will come, though, when memories drift into your head or someone tells a Dad story you’ve never heard before, that you’ll have laughter instead of tears.

Just wait, there are epic tales.

You’ll glimpse pieces of him in your nieces and nephews, and in your own children also.

That’s right. In the not very distant future, you’ll become a parent yourself. 

First, random, I know, but do you recall that time Mom’s terrycloth sleeve caught a flame while cooking? And how Dad didn’t hesitate to tear the robe right off her back?

Well, that boyfriend of yours will become a superhero husband to you just the same.

He’s eventually going to ask you to marry him.

And saying yes will be the best decision you ever make.

He’ll love, protect, and step up for you in ways that would make Dad beam.

He’ll be a strong, equal partner in raising your future, home-grown sons and your precious, hand-picked daughter.

The boys will keep you running to football, basketball, and baseball games; and your girl will make you as passionate about theater, specifically musical theater, as she is. No, I’m not kidding!

Yours will grow up at the speed of light and your sons—by the time I write this letter—will have entered sacred marriages of their own.

They’ll become first time dads within twelve weeks of one another.

They and their beautiful wives will make you a grandmother to two cherished granddaughters. (They’ll call you “Nonny” and our guy “Pop.")

Your spirit will swell, everyday, thinking about how much you adore those baby girls (and all your people) and how fortunate each of them are to have the eternal devotion of an intentional dad.

Take heart, dear one.

Dad loved you fiercely and your husband will too.

February 1990

Those God-given forces will sustain you through the fullness of this up and down life, and, like a relay baton, will be passed from generation to generation.

You see, your boyfriend hates that Dad’s race was cut short, and he’ll make a silent vow at the cemetery on the day of the funeral.

He’ll promise God that he’ll make a standing start and take care of you for the rest of his life—an almost impossible pledge by a teenager.

But at fifty-eight years old, he’s never once slowed his pace.

You sense it, but I can confirm it.

He is, undoubtedly, a treasure and a keeper.

He’ll clinch and carry the torch of solid commitment and leave a lasting legacy by his fortitude and steadfastness.

Yes, an indescribable gift from the Lord! 

I wish I could reach back in time and hold you, but I’m thankful God is. 

Trust me ... and hang in there.

Love is forever.

You will do more than survive.

You’ll thrive.

Yours Truly, Older Me

Jeremiah 29:11 "For I know the plans I have for you," says the Lord. "They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope."

John 16:33 "I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world."