Thank you so much for all of your prayers over the last few
weeks. I was overwhelmed with all of the messages you sent letting me know that
you were praying and that we were not alone in our experiences. I have to be honest;
I was not expecting to hear so many similar stories to what sweet girl and I
are struggling with. And while I would NEVER want anyone to go through what we
are going through, there was a measure of comfort in knowing that we aren’t
alone. And that it can/will get better. So for those of you who shared those
stories- thank you. I KNOW it’s not easy.
Speaking of sharing stories. Most of you know that when Bill
died I asked that people write letters to the girls so that they would have
stories of him to read as they grow up. On Father’s Day I decided to randomly
pick a few to read to the girls. It just felt right to read some together for
the first time on Father’s Day. Like a way that we could still make the day be
about Bill each year even though he’s not physically here. Obviously, Zoey and
Leah are still wiggle worms so they listened to the first letter, but by the
middle of the second one, they had kind of lost interest. Kaleigh, on the other
hand, was intent on reading each of them. Once we finished, we went about the
rest of our day (a movie- also to honor Bill since he LOVED movies) and no one
really said anything about what we had read. Part of me figured that they are
so young it would just take more time and maturity for them to appreciate what
a gift these stories are. And I was ok
with that.
Well, a week or two
ago, Kaleigh and I were talking, and something she said made me realize just
what an impact one of the letters we had read had already made on her. Let me
pause, and explain that, with fourth grade has come this social awareness of
“cool kids.” I knew inevitably that this was a bridge that we’d someday have to
cross, but I guess I was still surprised by it happening now. I mean, wasn’t
she just born? Anyway, this new perception of “social structure” ushers in a
whole set of conversations that, quite frankly, I am not ready or eager to
have. Even if Bill were here, these conversations would still be hard, but now
to be the single parental voice for our kids is very daunting to think about.
So, back to the conversation. Kaleigh was working on her
homework and she just matter-of-factly looked up and said, "Mama.
I want to be just like Daddy. You know. I want people to think I'm cool because
I do the right thing. Not because I break the rules." I knew
immediately that she had been thinking about one of the letters we had read for
Father’s Day, but I was so surprised that something we had read four months
before was still on her mind.
This particular letter was from one of Bill’s high school
friends. In it, she tells the girls about what Bill was like as a teenager. She
talks about how sometimes in school kids think that ‘popular’ means you have to
break the rules so that everyone knows who you are. She explains that the real
meaning of popular is something altogether different. That it means “regarded
with favor, approval, or affection by people in general.” Then she tells the
girls that Bill fit this definition- the real definition- of popular. She says,
“He was nice to others without being a pushover, he was intelligent without
making people feel inferior, and he was fun to be around without breaking rules
or laws.” The letter was over two typed pages long, and was filled with lots of
great memories about Bill, but it was the part about being “popular” that
really resonated with Kaleigh. Now, I am not naïve enough to think that with
one decision as a 9 year old, all of my work is done. I know that the whole popularity
thing will continue to pop up as she enters her tween/teen years, but with her
acknowledgement of wanting to be just like Bill, for a moment, as weird as it
might sound, I didn’t feel like a single parent. I didn’t feel alone. I felt like Bill was right there parenting
with me-leaving his mark on Kaleigh as she was beginning to think about her
future self.
So for those of you who have written letters. THANK YOU. I
have 20 years’ worth of Bill stories that I can share with the girls from my
perspective, but for the first 19, I can only retell the stories I’ve heard.
And for the years I was around, the letters give a different perspective than mine of their dad.
These letters are a priceless gift to all of us. They help the girls (and me)
learn new things about Bill with each one that we read. They are providing a
legacy that keeps him alive in the girls’ lives. They will continue to learn
from him. To grow from his example. And we have YOU to thank for that. Thank
you for taking the time to bless our girls with this gift. Thank you for loving
them enough to share your experiences with Bill. Thank you.
