Passing the Torch

I know that I've mentioned this before, but one of things that people often say that they remember most about my dad is how often he would go out of his way to let them know how he felt about them. I was the lucky recipient of this on a frequent basis and have many vivid memories of feeling special and valued in his eyes. I'll never forget the time I came home to a little present from him when I was about eight or nine years old because that morning I'd held the door open for someone for the first time and it made him so proud- something so simple, and yet that recognition and love stands out to me to this day.

My dad was also notorious for writing notes to people, which is why seeing his handwriting will always make my heart swell. From his basketball notes to the camp postcards that he would send to me, his writing reminds me of how much intention and thought he put into every little thing. While I was fortunate to feel this love and warmth on a regular basis, it's always especially heartwarming when other people share their similar experiences with my dad. Naturally, it's difficult to swallow that these memories are all that we have left and that my dad's not here to continue spreading his love, but I hope that we can still keep this sentiment alive in our own special ways. Something as simple as a handwritten note or small token of appreciation can make all the difference in a person's day, week, or even life.

One day this week, CP and I came home to a package from my parents' dear friends, the McQuaides. Even though we'd lost touch with them in the recent years before my dad passed, Jim and Sharon were some of the first people to arrive on our doorstep when they heard of my dad's passing - something that I'll never forget. There was no expectation, no way of knowing how to carry the conversation, but they knew that they wanted to be there- which is exactly what we needed. Jim and Sharon have always had the biggest hearts and their gesture this week proved no different. Inside the package that arrived were some adorable clothes for Avery and an old, used book for CP about being a dad called, "Daddy Cool: How to Ride a Seesaw with Dignity, Wear a Donald Duck Hat with Style, and Sing Bingo Was His Name-O with Panache".  CP opened the package and had sort of a confused look on his face and said something like, "Oh, that's really nice!". I asked him if I could see the book too, and when I opened it up, the moment hit me like a ton of bricks. This wasn't just an old, used book on being a dad - it was a book that my dad had sent Jim when the McQuaides had their first daughter, Erin.  True to form, my dad had written a heartfelt note to Jim on the inside that brought on the waterworks when I turned to it. Once CP understood the significance of the used book, it quickly became a cherished possession.

Despite my best attempt, I know that I'll never be able to express to Jim and Sharon how much this meant to us. The fact that they even held onto the book is incredible, and to be the lucky recipients of such a meaningful memory and token of love is just so special. Even though these days are all running together and at times things are beyond overwhelming, this was the perfect reminder that there's always time to let those you love know it. Although Avery will never be able to meet my dad, among other things about him, she'll surely be familiar with his distinctive handwriting and the love that he spread with his words.