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My father will be 95 years-old in January. We’ve had a life-long ritual - at the end of every phone conversation or in-person get-togethers, we always say, “I love you.” Goodbye without “I love you” simply isn’t goodbye.
So, it’s no secret that we love each other and always have.
Why then, have I been totally obsessed for a while with the idea of writing him a long-winded, heartfelt letter about why I love him or why I think he’s been such a good father to me.
It could be due to the fact that I’m a realist and I know I won’t have him in my life much longer. Time is of the essence.
It’s also because I cringe at the thought that after he dies, I will probably carefully craft a poignant speech to read at his memorial service, a speech he will never hear. It just doesn’t make sense.
So, because I could tell that he’s slowing down mentally these days, I hopped on a plane from Denver to New York to carve out some alone time with him and read out loud my 5-page, single-spaced love letter, word for word.
Although a bit nervous, I couldn’t wait to whip out my “mini-book,” and said, “Dad, I wrote you something and I want to read it to you, okay?” Curious, he nodded.
Warm, funny, poignant memories painted a picture of a man with a deep love for his family, a man who worked tirelessly to offer his children opportunities that he, an Austrian immigrant fleeing Nazi Austria never had.
My father’s essence is about appreciation; his glass is always half full. His gratitude for the amazing life he created is never-ending.
Then there were the childhood flashbacks…times when he taught me to ride a bike, drive a car, or ski down long mountain trails. Especially sweet were the memories of the times he sat in the living room for hours, just listening to me play the piano.
As we walked down memory lane, he leaned in, listening intently. We weeped.…but I kept reading. At the end, he said two things.
One- “I didn’t know I was that good.”
Two- “Can I keep a copy of that letter?”
And then I got to thinking.
This is an important exercise for all of us to do with our loved ones, not just the elderly on borrowed time.
We should tell our family and friends not just that we love them, but why we love them. We should write it down. We should read it to them. We should talk, eyeball to eyeball, heart to heart.
Don’t take the people you love for granted. Don’t assume they know what you love about them.
Don’t give yourself an out by thinking, “My family just doesn’t talk about emotional things like that.” Don’t pretend there’s no rush to reach out because your loved one will be around for a while.
Life can change on a dime. It did for me.
My mother- my best friend and most enthusiastic “Michele fan”- died in a tragic car accident 11 years ago. I didn’t get to be with her and hold her when she passed away. I didn't get to say goodbye. It’s not that we weren’t endlessly expressive with each other, it’s just that there was more to say.
I’d give anything to have one more day to tell her the place she held in my heart and the gratitude I have felt my whole life for the miracle of having experienced unconditional love.
So, during this Thanksgiving holiday, please think about the people you love. But don’t stop there.
Think about WHY you love them, what they mean to you, how your life is different because they’ve been an integral part of it. Then tell them. Write it down. Peer in their eyes and speak from your heart.
And trust me on this on, when you share your love, the gift will be yours.
Happy Thanksgiving.
