Happy Father's Day. I wanted to put this in writing, because you are a man who shows love more than he says it, and I think you deserve to have it said back to you plainly.
When I think of you, I think of the quiet. Not an empty quiet, but the kind that feels like a porch light left on. You never needed a lot of words to make me feel safe. You were just there, steady and patient, and that was always enough for me to feel at home.
I think of you bent over an old radio, turning a tiny screw and waiting for a crackle of sound to come back to life. You never hurried it. You believed something worth saving was worth the time. I think that is how you have always treated the people you love, too. I see the same patience when I remember you out on the water with a fishing line, content to wait and ask for nothing more. And I will admit the burnt barbecue has become one of my favorite flavors in the world, because it tastes like you standing proudly at the grill, sure that this time it came out perfect.
Six years of coaching my little league team. Six years of showing up, of encouraging every kid, of making a ball field feel like a safe place to try and miss and try again. I did not understand then how much of your time and heart that was. I do now, and I am so grateful.
You taught me to measure twice and cut once. I have carried that with me everywhere. It is about wood and wire, but it is also about care, about slowing down and getting things right, and about not rushing past what matters.
And I know you are secretly sentimental, Dad. I think you will read this letter more than once, and I think you will keep it somewhere safe. That is fine with me. I hope it makes you smile.
Thank you for everything you have been to me. My love for you is unconditional and always will be, wherever life takes me. You are my home.