There is a dangerous tendency I have to idealize people and situations unrealistically. As time passes, it is easier to do this with those who have passed away, including you.
In self-correcting this tendency, I am grateful for what you taught me, even if the way I learned it was less than ideal. There are no perfect people. You were not, and I am not.
But imperfect people can still love well, and should still be loved. In spite of their flaws, or maybe due to them.
I know you loved me, Dad. You did not do it perfectly, but you did it fiercely. The tears that still come as I type this, 8 years later, are proof of that.
8 years is such a long, and yet a short time. So much has happened in and to me since you’ve been gone. I often wonder what you would tell me about what currently challenges me.
The main comfort I derive, from what I think you would say, is that you believe in me more than I believe in myself. Possibly more than you believed in yourself.
It is that confidence, in part, that makes me want to keep going, even if I have to go alone. Your input in my life reminds me that I matter, even when my ideal isn’t realized.
Thank you for valuing me even when I struggled to see it your way.
I love you.
Lori