I wanted to share this interpretation of a story from the book. The short version of the passage is explained below. It has affected me in so many ways, I can’t even describe them all but my life changed forever that year.
Please let me know if you’ve ever had this kind of breakthrough. You can share your thoughts about barriers and breakthroughs in your family relationships in the comments below or send an email to rob@robcommodariauthor.com.
Back in 2001, when former Baltimore Orioles manager Cal Ripken Sr. died, I was listening to a radio show with Cal Jr. talking about his relationship with his dad. I began lamenting that I had never had that kind of relationship with mine. My dad never said, ‘I love you” or “I'm proud of you, son” to me or any of my siblings.
I was 34 at the time and I realized I really needed validation from my father that he loved and accepted me so I decided that for Christmas, I wanted to play a game of catch with dad using the first glove he had given me — it was a hand-me-down — when I was a young boy.
So I wrote my dad a note from the heart. Here's what it said.
"Hey, Dad, it's Christmastime again and families all around the world are getting ready to share their Christmas joys. As usual, moms and dads get a list together from their little girls and boys. Some lists include such things as cars and trucks while others include things like Barbie dolls and makeup. Boys will ask for video games and sports things while girls may ask for dresses, clothes, and angels with little wings.
"You've been a dad for 36-plus years now and worked for 45-plus years as well. You've had the opportunity to raise seven children, which is priceless, but I'm sure caused all kinds of hell. I could not imagine how hard it must have been with all that weight upon your shoulders but I think I'm beginning to understand now that I'm much older. Dad, we're all older now and most of us have moved away. Now it's time for you to have some fun because we all know you've earned your pay.
"If I could ask for one thing from you for Christmas, Dad, it would be … no, not a house, not a car, not even a watch. All I want, Dad, is just to play some catch from the heart.
"Rob, December 25, 2001."
That Christmas the two of us played catch for the first time ever.
That moment broke a chain of insecurities that I had been hiding deep down since I was a kid working on my first paper route. One of those insecurities was the thought of not being loved and accepted by my dad.
As we played catch on that frigid Christmas morning, Rob I that the act of my dad throwing the ball to me was his way of saying, "I love you, son," and when dad caught each ball I threw back, I heard the words, "I accept you, son."
That day, I gained an awareness from that experience that let me take my foot off the proverbial break and move forward with my life. I was able to receive the love and acceptance that my dad always had for me, even if he never expressed it. That day both our lives changed forever. Not only did I feel loved, but my father started saying the words, "I love you, son. I accept you, son."