Dear Christopher, Anne and Chandler,
Thinking back on previous Father’s days, your handmade expressions of yourselves come to mind — little hands printed in clay, painted self-portraits, and roughly drawn letters spelling ‘PAPA.’ And I smile.
Almost every day I smile — recognizing the roads each of you are traveling clearly as expressions of who you are. While I have often insisted on providing bumpers on your journey to prevent you from going too far off course, your wild ride has been all yours. What Happy Fathers Days I have had.
Not withstanding the nights you rolled the vehicle out of the garage onto the open road with no license except that you were a kid, I was your taxi service, ambulance operator, and tour guide. While you sat in the back, these ‘services’ placed me in the drivers seat watching you grow through the rear view mirror.
And this is what I saw:
First born and king of the household, Christopher has often asked me to trust his choice of friends — people I would probably not choose. And yet, with no exception, each doubtful boy has become a close member of the family and often times I am called by many Mr. Fischer Dad. You are a maker of tribes, Christopher, bringing together people who would normally never sit at the same table and getting them to do greater things together than any one of them could do apart. I respect you for this and many other attributes that you possess that have taken you to where you are now.
Regarding this King Christopher as all you saw him to be, he granted you, Anne, the family’s starring role, the celebrity, the drama queen, the hardest working leading role I have ever known. Lady Anne, as this is what we are to call you, you are never satisfied with bigger in everything you do, it has to be better too — a guarantee that you will never be satisfied. And while this often frustrates you, those who are touched by you become always more than they ever thought they could be.
And Chandler, wanting always for you to know that you were a part of them, Christopher and Anne gave you a name with bits of themselves in it — CHris ANne (DL) tophER. And your name means, “maker and seller of candles.” Not only do you have a smile that lights candles, you know the Maker, as only an old soul could at such an early age; you have always said you were born to introduce the light of the Maker to others and bring them to Himself.
I am flawed — and so are we all, which keeps us on our knees before the Lord. I have taught you — and you have taught me how to love and to go for it, conquer it, and make it my own. I have much to learn, and you still have much to put together, but I will, and you will, and many will be blessed.
I might be the older, wiser pioneer peering into the new frontier, but you are the new frontier.
Christopher protects, Anne heals, and Chandler saves.
What a Happy Father am I indeed!