In 1988, I spent the summer working in London. London is where I was
for Father's Day that year. When my dad passed away, my mom gave me all
the letters and cards I had sent him over the years that he had kept in
his dresser drawer. This is the letter I sent him that year.
Dear Dad,
This seems odd, writing to you. But I feel the need to, and so I do.
I
miss you. Does that strike you as odd? I mean, I find it normal to
miss home, and my parents - but I miss YOU. I miss sitting at the dinner
table complaining together about how mom is on the phone or that dinner
isn't cooked quite right. I miss asking who is on "Johnny" tonight and
making you stop changing the channels so I can see someone you've never
heard of before.
I miss knowing that you are worried. I
don't know exactly what you're concerned over for me - I know you care
and are concerned, but I don't have the specific thing and I miss that.
I'm
really enjoying myself. I'm poor. DIRT poor. I live in a "ghetto". But
it's such an experience, I wouldn't trade it. Tomorrow I'm taking a
draw on my salary (they said I could, because I just missed payday...)
So I shan't be poor for long.
I've started saying "half" as though it rhymed with "cough" - I like it.
There
is talk that I may be able to help open the Paris store for Joan &
David - I would love that! My French is almost eight years old but it
would help me live in Paris! That would be too much to ask for. But it
is still just talk.
I feel so distant from you and all
my family (and clean water, and clean air!) but I feel that this is most
likely part of growing up and taking on my own responsibilities. I
mean, I sometimes felt (as I'm sure you have) that I've never be able to
actually handle life on my own. I'm pleasantly surprised - I CAN do
it!!
Anyway - HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!! I would've phone you but i heard you were out of town...
I love you dearly - and miss you terribly.
Love, Jim
For the record, I didn't go to Paris for work. I didn't live in a "ghetto". The water in London left a strange scum on the top when you made tea and when I blew my nose the pollution from the city turned my boogers black. Even after taking that draw on my pay, I was broke. I still can't really handle my own life. And I still miss my dad.
