My Dad

My Dad

            “Today I think I will just be happy! I don’t know about tomorrow but today I will be happy!”

            I can still hear my Dad saying that, every morning at breakfast time.  He always smiled when he would say that and then, after telling each of us how much he loved us, he would go off to work. How is that for a pleasant memory?

            My Dad was an unusual man.  He was an accountant by trade and a clever writer by hobby.  Each day he would carefully watch everyone in sight, looking for any deeds one might do that would seem to benefit someone else.  Usually it would be a deed that most would simply disregard but Dad noticed.  He often times asked until he found out the name of whoever did such a kind deed and would promptly sit at his typewriter and write him or her a thank you letter.  I thought that was the greatest hobby one could have. When he died I cannot believe the number of people who came up to me simply to tell me that they had once received a letter from my Dad.  The funeral home was filled.  And I actually knew very few of the ones there. 

            Wanting to be like my Dad I decided to write a short book about him.  I even gave it a title: “My Father Wrote Letters.”  But in order to do that I would have to interview as many people that I could find who had actually received one from him.  That turned out to be a near impossible task.  Most of the people he wrote I did not know at all and the few that I did know were deceased. And the story became another one of my desires that never panned out. 

            But I can tell one other story about him that you might enjoy.  Whenever Dad got mad or irritated at someone he would sit down and type a very nasty letter to them, explaining all the details as to how he had been wronged or cheated.  He really let go.  Then he would put it in an envelope, stamp it, address it, and place it in his desk drawer.  He would then wait usually about three weeks and then get it out, open it, and read it.  He would then smile to himself and promise himself that he would forgive the affair, and destroy the letter.  He never mailed a single one.  But he destroyed them complete with the stamp still on it. He would often say, “Hate only hurts the hater.”

            My Dad always had time for me, no matter how busy he was.  He treated everyone that way as well.  But he always made me feel special.

            So now you have my favorite story.  Next week we will share together some of my favorite memories.  If you get bored, just quit reading and send me one of yours.  I truly want to hear them. Thank you for reading this far!