Keeping up with the Joneses in Germany: Dear Dad

Dear Dad,

I've been getting your letters nearly every week for the past ten months now. The familiar, off-white envelopes with your handwriting are bright spots in my week, waiting for me in my mailbox amidst the German newspapers, junk mail, and bills I cannot read. Since August, nearly everything in my life has been new - country, apartment, job, language, car, groceries, friends, church, systems of measurements, culture, etc....Yet each week, you have given me the gift of news and love from home, wrapped in a cream colored envelope with a global stamp in the corner - Something tangible that comes from a place that I know and understand and love.

Not only that, but your letters speak to my heart that you love me. I've always thought "words" were my love language, but perhaps it is more specifically "mail." :) I've felt cared for and ministered to by your letters, whether you are telling me how proud you are of what we are doing, encouraging me to make the most of my time here, or just filling me in on the goings-on at home.

Several times, I've attempted to write back, but with with each try, I find myself moved to tears by how much I miss you...

I missed you every Monday when I played Risk with my middle school students. I was so much better than them, thanks to your coaching.

I missed you at the eis cafe in town, where I always ordered kokos (coconut) ice cream, just like I know you would.

I missed you as we attempted to hold our breath through Europe's many tunnels, and when they were too long to do so, we timed them to the millisecond, knowing you would appreciate our precision.

I missed you in Italy, remembering our trip 13 years ago, when we ate Pringles at the top of Saint Peter's, did flips at the toga party, and played catch on the lawn. Pronto!

I missed you during Christmas when I saw a tree made of skis in France, and we skyped with you and Mom and Cody on Christmas morning.

I missed you at every castle, knowing how you would have loved exploring the ruins...remembering the crumbling estate we used to explore in Lake Forest.

I missed you in Fuerteventura when Jordan went windsurfing and I wished you were there to cheer him on and make sure he didn't die.

I missed you when I ordered chocolate croissants at the bakery and saw the smiley face cookies we used to get from Claude the baker's bakery on our dates.

I missed you when Jordan drove me through the apple blossom fields with my head out the sunroof and I remembered when you let Cody and me ride on the roof in Gecawa.

I missed you when I ate a crepe in Paris...but it wasn't as good as the ones we always get in Breckenridge. Plus there was no first customer discount in Paris.

I missed you in Switzerland when we skied through the most beautiful mountains I've ever seen...but it felt a little empty without you making parallel turns alongside me.