Words to a man who lost his father this week:
At nearly 70, I can share with you that life is not quite what we envisioned it would be when we were playing in sandboxes and yanking pigtails in Ms. Grundy’s class. As a father, I can also share with you that we rarely live up to that image of us that we see reflected in the eyes of our sons and daughters. But most of us try. We do try. We try to be successful in life; we try to be good husbands; we try to be that father our sons and daughters need.
But we’re also human, and imperfect, and we rarely reach as high as we seek to reach. Sometimes its a failure within, and often its some circumstance which we cannot overcome. But we do try, and try again.
But there is one thing which a son or daughter should never doubt, never fail to grasp tightly to their own heart.
We fathers do take immense pride in our children, and we cling to them as the most precious achievements of our lives.
I see the photograph of you with your father. I read that it was a long and often isolated path the two of you walked.
But I’m a father, and I can see the joy and pride and love in his eyes.
The two of you were fortunate to have each other. Remember him.
My very best wishes for a long and gratifying life of accomplishment for you. He’ll be proud.