Wisdom from a Father...mine.

I recently felt impressed to read through the letters I received on my mission...oh say, 12 years ago. Hard to believe. I flipped open my ginormous binder of letters and was drawn to the ones from my Dad. I had only read 2 or so when I came across this one that I really loved. It was meant for me. But it was meant for me now, much more than 12 years ago. Here's a paragraph from it...

June 26, 1998

"Jen, I was looking at the family photo the other day realizing it was taken less than a year ago. When it was taken, I knew it could be one of the last times we would all be together for a while, but I didn't know then that by now we would be scattered in three states and one foreign country. I saw some little girls running around in the Eugene airport and I felt a wave of nostalgia and a sense of great distance from when we had a bunch of little girls and a little boy. It seemed complicated then. Going out to a movie and arranging for a baby-sitter and worrying while we were gone seemed logistically challenging then. But now I realize there was also a kind of simplicity in having everyone in one car or one house or one row in church at a time. I could scan in a moment the whole scene and satisfy myself that everyone was all right. The problems, if any, were apparent. When someone hurt, they'd cry and there weren't many hurts that couldn't be fixed in ten minutes. In church, a drawing of a rabbit or a girl in a frilly dress would generally take care of restlessness if a couple of jelly beans from a suit coat pocket didn't work. Now, the assessments are difficult. I can't know for sure who's hurting when. And if they're hurting, I can't tickle them out of it. The funny thing is, I remember on more than one occasions, thinking--even knowing-- that I would some day look back on those times as wonderful, but even then I was unable to fully appreciate that chapter of life. And more than anything, I don't think I realized this time would never repeat itself again. It was one shot to make the memories as good as possible. I hope I did a reasonably good job at that. "

He did. I can't tell you how powerfully that paragraph hit me. It's like he knew I'd need these exact words 12 years down the road. Thanks Dad. Love you.