All Cost

Failure overcomes many. Victory is achieved by few.

Dear Dad,

It’s been awhile since I’ve written you. There have been so many things happening recently that it’s been tough to stay in touch with those I love the most. How are you doing? Well, I suppose that’s a silly question to ask because I know you’re in the best of Hands.

You have been on my mind in recent times, as there have been a lot of situations I’m experiencing that I know you would appreciate. There have also been a lot of experiences where I would have appreciated your advice, thoughts, and hugs. Reading through Opa’s book, I can only imagine what yours would have looked like if it had been written.

Dad, you would have been so proud of Mark. When he graduated from his Navy training, he was the #1 recruit out of 915 people. Words cannot express the pride and joy that went through my heart as I watched him, separate from all others, be called in front of thousands of people and receive public recognition for his excellence. His achievement is what brings much joy to the heart of a father, in a way only a father can understand. We all walk a little taller now, knowing that the pedigree and excellence of our family is finally beginning to show its true colors. You would have been so proud, dad. So proud.

Well, I’m living in Los Angeles now. After graduating from Ohio State (certainly not top of my class. Mark had that base covered), I decided to take a one-way ticket and see what the future held. Initially, I didn’t know why I was coming here. And I’ve realized it’s been one of the most defining moments of my development as an adult, man, and successful individual. You wouldn’t believe the things that have been happening here. I’m going to make you proud, Dad. Leave little league home runs to the suburbanite pride; I’m going to make millions. Wait and see.

There are a lot of questions I have had for you now that you aren’t here. There continue to be many times where my finger instinctively holds down the 7 on my phone trackpad, expecting to hear your voice. 614.783.5241. That number will be forever burned in my head. Every single time I bring the phone up to my ear, I’m reminded that you aren’t here with us.

Something I’ve learned about life; it’s not as hard as we’ve made it out to be. Growing up, I know we didn’t exactly have ideal circumstances. But I’m learning that it’s possible to achieve your dreams and make rights out of wrongs, if only you set our mind to it. I’m learning how to pursue what others have deemed to be impossible. And I’m learning how to ask the questions that very few are willing to venture near. I have you to thank for all of this. Your upbringing, along with the terrific wife you married, have helped shape me into the man I am becoming.

I’m writing to you now as somebody who has been through several hard lessons, but is still standing tall and proud through the battles. No longer the young and weak son that you last saw, but somebody who is growing stronger, more determined, and a bit more successful with each passing day. Perhaps one day Mark will grow up… (Sorry, Mark…I had to)

I’m looking forward to the day where I can keep good on my promise and return to see your grave. It may be soon. It may take many years. However, I will count the cost and do my best to be the best son I can be.

See you soon, Superman.


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