Eight years ago, I shared this to Facebook on this very day. Since my heart is bubbling over with happy tears…need to ensure this is secured in My God Room.

Yessir, I see what you did there. You had me crying happy tears so hard because of all you have done for us since May 8, 2025. I love you with all I am or will ever be.

Daddy,

For Father’s Day, I pulled out the poem I wrote you for your 50th Birthday. I pondered where it was displayed near Army, Vietnam and even Steeler memorabilia. Your football and movie watching room reflected your own balance of strength and gentleness. It just overwhelmed me this morning that you had three stanzas from my heart hanging in your line of sight for almost 15 years. I thought I was being overly emotional, but it all came into focus during some quiet/prayer time.

Don’t know if it was “Oscar” gut instinct or divine guidance, but I pulled up the Obit from a Friend that was posted in The Leaf Chronicle when you died. Yes, it made me miss you all the more, for a few minutes. Still, I had to smile to see some similarities between the Obit from a Friend and my poem to you almost 15 years prior:

Introspective, check.
Stubborn, intelligent, disciplined, triple check.
Emotional competence, strength and character for another hat trick.

The same core truth echoed in both. I smiled because of other truths, as well. They may fill a book someday. For now, on this Father’s Day, I want to share what you managed to teach me on my 8th Father’s Day without you.

Daddy, as a 49 year old parent, I re-read every word of that poem. I considered how I feel when my own kids write me such heart-felt letters. Overwhelmed. Then, I let all the similarities fade into the background. There was a particularly blinding nugget of glorious truth in the first stanza. Feared. Past tense.

I still remember walking into your kitchen almost 23 years ago to celebrate your 50th. I remember thinking on the drive from Nashville of all the snarky things you or my sisters could say when I gave you a framed poem. Oh, how I miss your sarcasm! More importantly, I remember telling you it didn’t matter what you did with the gift and I surely didn’t expect you to hang it up. I just knew I had to speak the truth in my heart to you through those three stanzas. Quite frankly, I was surprised it didn’t end up in the closet with your record collection. I never expected it would be displayed with other precious memorabilia.

Maybe it hung in your line of sight because it was written truth. Maybe it inspired you to write your own truth on all those letters to the editor in years following. Maybe it was there because it brought you joy to know I had grown through my fear. As a parent, that’s a biggie. Maybe it was there because it acknowledged something wonderful about you that you desired to “hear” daily. No doubt, it was there for reasons I will never understand. I am just humbled and honored that it hung for any reason.

Today, the gift from you to me is a reminder of the power and beauty in written truth. It isn’t always sweet, sometimes it is salty. It’s always truth and there is beauty and power in it if you look hard enough. Thank you for leading by example in ways you never knew on earth.

My hope is you knew, unequivocally, the profound influence you had in my life. I honor it and you, daily. I pray you are so joyous in heaven that this letter isn’t even on your radar. Regardless, for Father’s Day, it only seemed appropriate to write it all out, Oscar style.

I love you, Dad.