My father's final letter to me

I have made a lot of posts about how I feel.  This post is the transcribe of a letter my father sent to me...

He sent this award with it in a priority tracking service envelope, I guess he wanted proof that I had received his letter.

Here is the letter:

"Since you were kind enough to write back and ask if I was mad, I'll gladly answer.  No, you did not make me mad, you merely broke my heart because no you do not understand and you won't because you read what you want to believe not what I write.

I am including a plaque I received in 1990 for most energy efficient home in the 1800 foot size for the entire northwest from BPA.  It tells how green I was before you ever saw the color.  How many green homes did you sell in 1990.  I built 7 and remolded 9 more.  I have paper certificates for green warehouses 1983, 1986 and 1991, green offices 1987, 1993 and 1997.

Use it to burn a green fire.  I merely wrote that global warming wasn't under complete review a manmade product.  But don't left facts confuse your belief.  I wrote we have to be willing to be a good a steward of all God has given us.  You ignore that statement and proclaim I mock you.  But the facts confuse your belief and you are now green and I am not, but I mock you.  I was installing heat pumps and telling others to install them in 1972 in Salt Lake City before the oil crisis.  You mock me by not reading what I wrote and I was and am greener than you even now.  But don't let that fact obscure your belief.

But the facts are that the world is warming and has been since before Christ was born.  Study the Sahara and see where Rome got their wheat.

You proclaim you understand the traditions and the family.  You don't have a clue and you will never because you have sons and daughters that don't fight each other and don't even argue.  I don't have that luxury and battle constantly to maintain a strict balance between hardhead, loud and obnoxious adults that I love dearly and try to help.  You only have to deal with them in your business and you whine about how hard that is.

You proclaim you understand my wife.  Again no clue.  Your husband has not come to you after 25 years and confessed his lie only to have you meet his lie and say how wonderful she is then hear her harshly criticize a daughter that was and is struggling to keep her family together in what is most unfair and bad circumstance.  You do not know her story of how she views blood and blood relationship nor how that caused her to struggle but still raise children outside of that blood line.  You don't understand her own family nor her fights there.

You'll never understand how much it hurts to not be able to invite someone you love so much and then have that someone tell you when invited that it isn't the right time, right place or right function.  And because you don't want it to be it will never be and you'll never understand.

You'll never understand how hard you fought to not see those two people you think are demi-gods and how hard and heart breaking it was to have to tell you over and over. "JUST GO SEE THEM, THEY LOVE YOU AS MUCH AS I DO." And still you argued against it, but finally went.

You don't understand what it means to be reminded daily that you did something when you were young and dumb and be told that you are forgiven but you can never be trusted again.

So yes, you broke my heart again, but you have done it so often it only hurts when I think about it.   Am I mad, No and cannot be for I caused it all and now each of you get your turn to be as ruthless in your judgement as you wish.  So judge away.  As you point out.  I am mean and nasty and my mocking your green is again proof of that.

So you'll never make the meanest, nastiest SOB that walked the earth mad.

Sorry you just don't have what it takes to make me made but yes you can and do break my heart.  You even ask one time if I knew how you felt to be left out.  No, I don't get left out, I have the much more dubious task of leaving some out here and some out there because they want to fight and scream at each other.  Go figure, the meanest has to make those harsh and brutal calls and then be skewered by both parties all the time.

And it is you that refuses to call and talk or meet and talk.  That has never been a problem with me either. But who wants to talk to a mean and nasty SOB."

I could add commentary, but in my hopes to record the story of meeting my father in it's truest form, I will allow instead the reader to comment.  If I can find it, I will share the email from me to him that preceded this story in a future post.