BETTER SEE LOVE

Dear Spike:

Your grandfather shared this with me today. I thought it would be good to share with you.

"For a moment, our eyes will meet. And in this moment, I will motion for you to take a deep breath and — with a mixture of trepidation and anticipation — walk away, knowing that, on this adventure, you will be on your own."

I remember this moment. It was the morning you left (very late, as I'm sure you'll recall) with the Navy recruiter. I remember how we locked eyes as you got into the car. I sensed that you were afraid -- and fear was something I didn't see in you very often -- and worried that I somehow had let you down.

I don't remember if I cried, I probably did, but I very distinctly remember thinking after a few minutes that you were going to be just fine. That you were off to live your own life and that we'd prepared you as best we could and that, now, it was up to you.

There was nothing that affected the relationship I have with your grandfather more than my decision to join the Navy. Things were rocky between us in the final months I lived in California, but we're closer now because of it.

I know there will be times like this for us, Spike, and it makes me scared and sad.

I never want to feel distant from you, and yet I understand now that distance — both physical and emotional — is often a prism through which we can better see love.

When we're distant I will reflect upon the moment that I left home. And I will know that we're OK.

Love,
dad