February Nineteenth

My mother took the photo

Dad,

February nineteenth is coming up again. I remember that morning. I remember finding you. I still carry it.

I’m not angry at you. I’m sad. I miss you. I wish you could have stayed. I wish we could have one more last conversation.

Thank you for what you gave us. You gave our family a childhood overseas that shaped me. We saw the world up close. That gift stayed with me. It made me curious, and it made the world feel wide. I’m grateful for that.

After you died, I struggled. I made choices I regret. I lost money. I lost my footing for a while. I’ve carried shame about that, and I don’t want to carry it anymore.

I believe God is not surprised by any of this. I believe He is kind to the broken. I believe He meets us in the places we would rather hide. So today I’m bringing this into the light.

I’m still here. I’m still trying to live an honest life. I’m still learning how to receive grace instead of punishing myself. I’m working on forgiving myself because God forgives me.

I don’t know everything about what you were going through. But I do know this: you are loved. You matter. And your life mattered to me.

Today I’m going to remember you, pray for peace, and keep moving forward.

I love you, Dad.

Jon