I’m not sure that writing these thoughts are for anyone else but me and my closure of things lost.

June 18th was Fathers day… June 16th, I learned that my father passed away of heart failure on May 15th, nine days after my 36th birthday.

I cannot explain the emotion I feel, but I do feel it. I never knew my father so why this overwhelming sorrow? I think it’s my desire of sonship.

When I was old enough to know, I realized the only thing you ever gave me was a card that read, “You’re 1, have fun Son.”

I remember going to your house one night with my older cousin Debbie. I was only a kid and you never saw me… But, I saw you through the front window… Well, at least the back of you. We ran back to the car like we had broken some law. I didn’t understand why we didn’t knock so I could meet you. Apparently you weren’t dressed for the occasion.

I know my mother sent you school pictures each year, but they were pictures worth only a thousand words. My life is a story.

When we moved to Washington my 13th year, I lost track of where you were, until the State of Washington found you and made you pay for some of my medical bills. I can’t imaging what you thought when blood test did reveal that you were my father. Several years passed quickly and at my 20th birthday, I cried in closet because you never knew me as a child.

As my life story continued, I married and had a child of my own. Then, the call from my mother that said she had found you once again… I have to say, I was not ready for that. It was my time to be everything right, I knew about fathers, to my child… It was not time for me to be a son.

Yet, I really thought you might contact me. I said, I didn’t care… I lied. As a matter of fact, I hear a lot of people say they don’t care and they’re liars. I did care.

At the age of 25, for the first time, I saw a picture of your face and with it came 1000 words. But, it wasn’t your story.

I thought one day I might be man enough to come meet you face to face. I told people I knew where you were and that our paths might cross someday… I realize that day will never come. I’m sorry.

Friday, June 16th, I cried once more. The call from my mother that said your heart failed and you were gone. I have to say, I wasn’t ready for that. I’m sorry you died alone and that there was no service to honor you. It doesn’t seem right. None of it ever did. But most of all, I’m sorry you never saw me as a man.

These words seem to come days to late… But as a son to a father I wish I was more bold to speak these words.

Tough, you think you’ve got the stuff
You’re telling me and anyone
You’re hard enough

And it’s you when I look in the mirror
And it’s you that makes it hard to let go
Sometimes you can’t make it on your own
Sometimes you can’t make it
The best you can do is to fake it
Sometimes you can’t make it on your own

- Bono, U2
“Sometimes You Can’t Make It On Your Own”

So that you know, I think I am turning out OK. I’ve been married for 14 years and I have four wonderful children. I know you saw the pictures my mom sent you. I want you to know I’m not perfect on my own, but Jesus has saved me. Christ has brought me back into the covenant with God, Abba… Father.

I wish you could have been more of a father to me. Fatherhood is a wonderful gift of God. I’m sorry you missed it with me.

Have mercy on me, oh God, a sinner. I’m sorry… I have missed the opportunity to be bold for the case of Jesus, who is Christ. I didn’t look with the eyes of love. My pride was to great. I thought I could do it on my own. Teach me to LOVE my neighbor. Teach me to LOVE my father, my mother, my brothers and sisters more than myself.

To all the men who have been a wonderful example of fatherhood… Thank you.

Big Don Williams
Jack Stivers
Walter King
Bob Irby
Woody Woodruff
Bill Ashman
Randy Langley
Jim Brown
Al Owens
Ronald Woods
Doug Davis
Greg Woods
Glen Cash
Scott Walsh
Kevin Woods
Walt Hamilton
German Harrell

peace.