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A Gift to My Father by Kristian Manley
LAGNIAPPE
A Gift to My Father by Kristian Manley
Ten years ago (in July of this year), I lost my dad… three days before his sixty-fifth birthday. The Sunday before his birthday of that year (2013), my wife and I found out we were expecting our second child and decided to wait and tell him, looking forward to sharing the surprise as part of the celebration we had planned together. The surprise didn’t go over so well.
It’s hard, losing a parent... my father. There were so many things we had left to do together, and his grandson. I realized everything that was done or undone would be that way for the duration of what life I had left. That was a hard truth to learn, on top of the fact of his passing. That we’d never share the same room, breath the same air, or talk and laugh together. But was it true? Was it too late? There had to be something I could still do for him. There must be something.
Then a funny thing occurred. His close childhood friend, turned over all the letter correspondence between them through the years, dating back to when my father was just a teenager and beginning his journey into adulthood. I discovered more about my father after his death than I ever knew during it, the depths. Don’t get me wrong, I had a great relationship with him and of course loved him dearly and did all kinds of outdoor things with him: Camping and fishing and all the ballgames we cherished together. But who of us has known our father’s heart?
The most poignant and beautifully written passages I’d ever read glowed from those pages he’d penned in his own delicate voice. His passions and dreams and emerging philosophy expressed in the words he’d written. I discovered that he aspired to be a writer, an artist. And he was one… as his life imitated art, only in a different, more subtle everyday kind of way that is hard to notice at a glance. The art of providing for his family and all the sacrifices that come with it, not the least of which were his dreams he put away that he’d never get to realize.
I could not stand the fact that his dream had eluded him. There were some wrongs I wanted to right… things I wanted him to see, and things I wanted to do with him and for him… too late. Well, this probably isn’t unusual, maybe a lot of folks can relate. So, what do I do? What can we do? There must be something.
So, all this to say that it dawned on me. Maybe it wasn’t too late. Yeah, maybe there was something I could still do that would further his legacy and even fulfill a long-gone dream of his. I decided to write a story for him, a fiction book in his honor. Though I had never written any narrative fiction to date in my life, I was inspired to sit down and draft a novel that had been brewing in me for some time. I didn’t fully realize what I was getting into. But it’s just writing a story. Anyone can do it, right?
It’s been quite a journey, with many stops and starts along the way, honing my craft. The story itself isn’t about my dad. But he was there with me, goading me along, providing words and the spirit to endure and see it through to the end. And now, nearly ten years later, it is complete.
My gift, however late, to my father who will finally become a published author… for that, I am proud of.
Sincerely,
Kristian
