For several years now, my sweet Mom and my sister Sharon have had the momentous task of  gathering and meticulously going through all of the people and paper contained in the boxes of my Dad’s life in order for Sharon to write his biography.  

It is a labor of love which is p r e t t y heavy on the labor side. 

This week is his birthday.  He would be turning 90 if he was still with us. 

In honor of this birthday, my Mom, in her sweet way, has asked all of his posterity to think about him and write our thoughts down. This latest request is a plea – one last time – to get as much detail about him from the children and grandchildren as possible before the actual writing begins. 

And in this request she wrote some prompts.  She asks us to tell of:

• A memorable trip
• A memorable event or activity
• A memorable conversation
• An interview you had with him
• A memorable blessing he gave you
• Rules he laid out
• Advice he gave
• The example he lived
• Skills he taught
• Education he expected
• Encouragement he offered
• Help and assistance he gave
• Validation you felt
• Love you felt from him
• Comfort he provided
• Material things he gave
• Actions he hoped and expected from you
• Inclusion in his circle of friends he offered
• Things that made a difference in your life

I have been struck by what those words say about how we live our lives – trips, events, activities, conversations, interviews, blessings, rules, advice, examples, skills, education, expectations, encouragement, help, validation, love, comfort, material things, actions, inclusion, making a difference. 

And I do have memories of my perfectly imperfect Dad in all those areas.  

But what I’ve been struck by even more is what that list shows about the way my Mom knew him.  Everything on that list is something she watched unfold and helped make happen in the man that she dearly loved.  

She knew him like no one else knew him. 

Timothy J. Keller says, “To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is, well, a lot like being loved by God. It is what we need more than anything. It liberates us from pretense, humbles us out of self-righteousness, and fortifies us for any difficulty life can throw at us.”

That’s what my Mom’s love did for my Dad: It allowed him to feel Liberated, Humbled, Fortified. She’s the reason all those words typed in that list are part of what his posterity remembers about him. 

As a bonus, (and love always comes with a bonus), it allowed her to know what it feels like to truly love. 

A couple weeks ago, I found a picture of my Dad sitting behind a big white cake surrounded by 7 of his youngest grandchildren, celebrating one of his last birthdays.  He is wearing an orange henley shirt, which, during his last few years, replaced the short sleeved button down oxford shirts he was known for. 

He was turning 84 that year.  And he is smiling.  

At my Mom. 

I can’t wait to hear about how you are truly loving and fully knowing those with whom you are closest. 

Giving them the chance to be on the receiving end? I think my Dad would agree that it’s worth it – for both of you. 

(Credit for this photo of my parents goes to my sister Maureen: @mematsenphotography)