Letter To My Father

Hi Dad.

Three days ago marked twenty years since you left. That, of course, being a euphemism since you didn’t go anywhere and it wasn’t your choice to leave. It’s hard to write this letter and not describe the last twenty years. It wasn’t easy. But, it wasn’t hard. Life is such a complex weave of hardships and luck. I have very fond memories of my childhood, but I must confess that I remember very little about you. After you left, mom had a hard time working to support us. She still struggles, I think. My educational career was a little rocky at times, but I’ve always been as smart as you’d remember. I’ve been successful in my career, mostly due to a combination of audacity and luck. I owe a lot to friendships I’ve cultivated over the years. Without them, I wouldn’t be where I am today. My life is the combination of all the work, struggle, and support that’s led me, inexorably here.

I decided to write this letter(a letter you will never read) after thinking about a holiday message for the blog. I was thinking about the holidays and the tough year that’s been. I was thinking about the hope that I had nurtured this year, and the struggles I see ahead. I was wondering what you’d say were you to be here. How would you encourage me? Would you think my plans are well laid and appropriate? I looked at the calendar and realized that three days ago was the anniversary of your death. Most of my thoughts seemed easier to write if I were writing them to someone. And, I can think of no better person to whom I should address these thoughts.

I don’t celebrate Christmas anymore. Don’t worry. That’s not your fault. I went on for a few years. I know we weren’t really raised in any religious tradition, and I’ve been told that you weren’t a rigid practitioner of your family’s faith. So, maybe you also came to the same acceptance: that Christmas was a familial and social tradition; not quite an obligation, but also not quite a spiritual celebration. The family still does celebrate, of course. And, I indulge them. But, I don’t hold in my heart the spirit of the holiday season. I find the holidays to be a collective drag on my emotional energy. Between “War on Christmas” evangelicals, who carve out a larger chunk of the year every revolution so they can stake their claim to religious superiority, and commercial relentlessness, the holidays seem trite.

I think it goes without saying that I don’t believe in God. I’m not sure if you’d be proud of that or not. I do believe in the power of people. People, limited only by their imagination, created the greatest civilizations of the world. People, with their audacity, uncovered some of the most wondrous mysteries of our universe. People, driven by a relentless and unquenchable desire, drove humanity forward. I believe in the power of people. The power to change the world. The power to help each other. And the power to persevere.

Unfortunately, most of what I see this time of year isn’t a celebration of people and their limitless potential. It’s a fight over coffee cups and “Happy Holidays.” It’s a mad dash through the shopping centers to buy that perfect gift, not caring about the young mother trampled by the stampede. I was too young to remember what it was like when you were wrapping our presents, but I have this bias that it wasn’t as bad. Maybe, I’m wrong and that’s what everyone says when it’s their generation’s time.

I’m not home for the holidays this year. So, perhaps you’ll forgive me for speaking a necessary truth.

I remember one time Justin and I were fighting, and you told me that brothers fight. But in the end, they always stay brothers. That’s the power of people. To hold the bonds of our humanity together. I don’t celebrate Christmas, or believe in God, but I do believe we should celebrate and believe in each other. I believe that people with enough drive and ambition can make the world a better place. But we can only do that if we are devout in our belief that the world belongs to all of us. That our collective well being and ambition expands our own horizons. That by celebrating the best versions of each other, we embrace the best versions of ourselves. People are worth celebrating. That’s what I am celebrating this year. I hope you approve.