An Open Letter
My Dear Daughter,
A Natural Father
I entered your life, in a sense, without a personal invitation. We didn’t have a biological contract. I never fed you a bottle or rocked you in my arms or wiped away great orby tears from your eyes or kissed a boo-boo on your knee. I came into your life after a great loss. Under such circumstances, it would be totally natural for a daughter to approach this stranger with a degree of skepticism, to hold him at arm’s length, to protect that tender space that her natural father filled. You were nearly grown when I came along, but over the years, you found a place in your heart that I could fill. I’m grateful for that. I have cherished the brief time, but a father’s love is permanent. I don’t require a biological bond to love you as a natural father would. It’s a piece of nature that I have chosen and you will always be held in a tender spot in my heart. I am certain that if your father were here, he would tell you that he earnestly loves you, that he yearns for your welfare, and that he will watch over and protect you always. Feeling firmly that he would approve, I say this to you now on his behalf as well as on my own.
School and Graduation
We wrestled from the brief years a rewarding relationship in school. I had the privilege of being your teacher and you treated me as a mentor. We seemed to utterly avoid the wrangling and contention that often plagues student-teacher relationships. You were attentive and respectful. Though you struggled with the material, I always considered it a mark of great character; there is no shame in struggling with difficult concepts. Quite the contrary, it’s emblematic of a noble mind. Rarely does something of great value come easily. It requires effort, discipline, humility, and the disposition to rise relentlessly after falling down.
When a global pandemic robbed you of a common rite of passage, your senior year and a joyous graduation, I felt anger and grief at your loss, but what could be done? It was tragic and beyond my control, but then you had coped with greater losses, hadn’t you? You were becoming a pro. You and your pod of friends found ways to compensate, to cheer each other on in spite of the disappointment. I felt a kindred strain, reminiscent of us cold war kids who occasionally found a bright spot under the shadow of the mushroom cloud. A father would shield his daughter from the blast if he could, but that’s not how this works; life isn’t that kind of bomb. You will have to learn to thrive in the face of adversity and to overcome life’s obstacles. I believe you have what it takes.
Conversations and Challenges
I have cherished the many conversations we have had regarding life, faith, or whatever topic was on your mind at the time. You often sought me out for advice or just as a sounding board, which has been a joy to me. I suspect that our talks have been challenging for you at times. I have sought to make you strong rather than comfortable. I have sought to foster in you the natural courage that I see. I have sought to develop a power in you to pursue the good things which you have naturally been drawn to. Remember that conversation we had about Jesus’ approach to a righteous life: set your heart on good and virtuous principles and your feet will follow. I will be watching with eagerness to see where your feet take you.
Pain and Strength
I know you’ve endured your share of pain. I don’t need to name the “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,” which have buffeted or pierced you. You know them. Suffice it to say that I admire your determination to turn these wounds into healing for others as well as yourself. It has been rewarding to watch you struggle, to take on challenges that you could have turned your back to. If you can take your pain and turn it into a source of light for the world, you have truly embarked on the path of nobility. Rise, relentlessly rise. Never let the heartbreaks of life smother your sweet disposition to do good where it is in your power to do so. You possess the gift of writing and it may be within your grasp to share your strength with a broad audience. It may be in a smaller setting. Whatever unfolds, I believe you may salve the broken and shatter the highways of tyrants. Great things are in your reach.
Marriage
Why do I write these letters and why in such a tone? It’s not because I have given up hope of ever seeing you again or that I have washed my hands of the work of a father. Far from it. It is because I know that when marriage is done right, it will consume you. I may never see the same you again, and that is good if it is love and virtue that transforms you. I hope that this is the case. I wish you love, a love that consumes you to the marrow of your bones. Marriage will be difficult at times, but you are no stranger to struggles. I hope that it is abundantly rewarding, as it should be. So, I take this opportunity to bid farewell to the girl that I love, that I will always love, and to let you know that it is both good and holy to give yourself to the marital relationship. I will love the new you, too, but for now I weep for the girl who is moving on. Travel well, my dear.