Letter to my Dad


Hey Dad,

I know that this is going to be the weirdest thing.

I know that this is going to be the weirdest thing.

We don’t write letters, no room for any tumble in an emotional cartwheel,

The silent conversations, the blank looks, the unintelligible grunts,

Men don’t show emotion but you do have your quirks that mask them, I do too.

Nevertheless, your unexpressed thoughts have been revealed in the sacrifices you make.

Thank you for being the best dad you could be, thanks for your selflessness

You didn’t quite have an example of fashioning your dad-experience after but you’ve done your best with the hand dealt.

You took what you were handed and used your love to shape it into a worthy, even though flawed, example.

Despite the flaws though, I learn that love can transcend the deficit fueled by our inadequacies.

There were so many things I wanted you to be but you proved to be exactly what I needed, or so I think.

I believe I haven’t turned out bad, even though I was the trial and error; the lab rat aka “the first kid”,

Maybe I could’ve turned out better but I’ve got no room for what ifs, no emotions allowed.

It’s so easy to write about Mom but quite interesting sitting down to write about you, it’s a staggered flow.

It takes a little more thought but the mysteries that have unfolded to me in these few (three) years have been interesting.

I believed in ‘never ever’ but you’ve shown me that that’s never clever,

I just realized that I should never say never.

You sent me that lady’s picture and I laughed so hard, something I thought Mom would do; You? not you!

I guess it’s your way of having this important conversation, weird, but I understand your heart.

Remember when you told me to record my spending in JSS 1, I thought it was a ploy to keep tabs on me,

I didn’t know it was a life lesson you were giving me, you didn’t mention, I wish you did

Now I can appreciate it in my journaling, wish I had started sooner.

I avoided a major disaster by what you said to me, “don’t give a personal loan that you aren’t ready to part with forever”,

It proved true because I was blind-sighted and would have been completely reeled into a scam, thank you, Sir.

My memories of you growing up are far and in between but I remember when you took me to that Mr Bigg’s party,

I can’t forget the prize I won, maybe you don’t even remember that.

I remember my Porsche ride on, that was the best toy ever but I haven’t got a lot of memories of you,

I remember things you got me not memories we shared, this is the most I’ll express; remember, no emotions allowed.

Now I’m older, I hope we can build more tangible experiences together as we’ve begun doing.

A compensation for time lost, I hope to get to know you more and glean all I can.

You’re not going to hear me say this, I’m not even sure what it means to me but I think I love you Dad.


About the Writer: Crispin thinks himself a philosopher of some sort with an avid imagination. He loves journaling and music by Jesus Culture. He’s got quite a fascination with numerology too. David and Uzziah are his favorite biblical characters. You can find some of his writing at https://suffusedwithlight.wordpress.com/


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