Sunday Night With John: One Last Gift From Dad

My Dad has been deceased for just about 18 years now, so how I did end up receiving a gift from him this past summer? It all started with an envelope I nearly discarded as it looked like another elaborate credit card offer. I set it to the side and had no plans of opening it. Later in the evening I took a closer look at the envelope and noticed the name, Loretta Derryberry, my grandma’s name, which perked my curiosity. I opened the letter it and skimmed over the technical jargon about life insurance and I was to call this number for more information.

After a phone call I had learned that my dad had an unprocessed life insurance policy.  I was instructed to send certain types of documents for processing and authentication and then I would receive more information. I called my family and we attempted to wrap our heads around this turn of events. It’s not every day a deceased father reaches from the past, taps you on the shoulder, and waves hello.  We decided I should call back and inquire about more information.  

I talked with the insurance agent and found that dad has taken out this policy in August of 1971. I joked with the lady that I was negative 11 years old when this policy was put in place. She didn’t find humor in that statement but then said due to the fact that both of your parents are deceased this policy was lost in the shuffle. I know I live in Iowa and my mom lives Ohio but I’m pretty sure my siblings would let me know is she passed away. I asked agent why they thought my mom was deceased. She then responded by asking if my mom was Loretta Derryberry. I explained to them Loretta was my grandma, my dad’s mom and that my mom was alive and well.

My mom took over from there and procured all the information the insurance company needed to payout the policy to my mom. My mom decided to split it between the three of Dad’s children, one last gift my dad. Logically I know there was a mistake made at the insurance company leading to my dad’s very first insurance policy never being cashed in. But emotionally, I believe it was my dad last chance to tell his kids he was proud of the adults they had become.  Every good gift deserves a thank-you note and here is mine.

Dad,

I was surprised to hear from you after all these years. I bet you had a good chuckle about plopping back into our lives and pulling another fast one on us.  You have always had a way of letting us know you were proud. I probably miss that the most over the last 18 years. It was always a reassuring feeling when I knew you were proud of me.  A lot has happened since we last chatted I thought I would catch you up.

I live in Iowa City, Iowa.  I think you would like it here. The pace of Iowa living would fit you nicely.  My professional career has me helping others in many different areas. I love working with people in difficult and/or different life situations and helping them make sense of it. I also public speak in numerous settings about the importance of emotional health. I’m making an impact with the help of a loving group of people who support me. I set out to create a message, “Share Emotion, Emotions Matter.” My story has people questioning life, sharing their emotions, laughing at life’s tough moments and communicating through tragedies. It has grown, changed, and matured over the years, but it’s having an impact. Its fun, exciting, challenging, and just as you would prefer, it forces me to become better everyday.

I have a great group of friends, we are complete goof balls but we are there for each other. David has stated on a couple of occasions, “We are the most organized group of idiots”, which is true. You would fit right in on our yearly river float down the Iowa River. Crystal has two great kids with a good Derryberry sense of humor.  She is such a caring person. David runs his own business and has a great family. You would enjoy watching him be a dad. I’m traveling to meet up with him for his 40th birthday, I’m sure you would be with us if you could.  You would be proud of how your kids turned out.

Lastly, I missed you at my wedding. I’m sure you would have had your not typical advice I would have loved to hear it. You would love Anne, my wife. She makes me want to find the best version of myself everyday.  She asks about you often.

Thanks for the gift dad, we put to good use and we all miss you. But most importantly we are all doing great! I’m wondering is the last little message we will get from you, but I’ll never doubt that you have the ability to surprise us again.  We all loved hearing from you.

Love,

Your Son