Dear Mom and Dad,

Thank you both for giving me life, when your life, at that time, was hard.

You gave me cans of food to share with the poor so I wouldn’t feel left out at the church food drive, (even though we could have been the recipients of that food drive).

You both worked hard so that we would be warm, dry and fed.

You moved us to a good school system to prepare us for college by building two homes after work with little help.

Dad,

you made us ice skating rinks by spraying water in the cold of winter night.

For Christmas, you took a 4×8 sheet of plywood and built my brother and I a slot car track.

You built a puppet theater for my sister that I used as a space ship.

Later, you built a “greenhouse” booth for my Junior Achievement Company where we sold flower pot hangers.

When I became mentally ill both of you sought help for me and,

You gave me a place to stay when because of mental illness I couldn’t really afford much.

You helped me move three times.

You fixed my trailer when it needed a new floor, my house when it needed railings, replaced toilets, faucets, electrical stuff, and the list goes on and on.

Dad, you have been there for me.

And Mom, so have you.

You sacrificed your sleep by working 11pm to 7am so that you could be home for us during the day.

You stressed the importance of learning, something I value now more than when I was in school.

You modeled reading; you took me to the library and encouraged my reading for pleasure, not just for school.

You sparked my interest in Wisdom literature and psychology by telling me quotes from books you were reading.

And both of you have given me things that have had strategic importance.

When I couldn’t hear well enough to do my new job, you both fixed that.

And you even gave me the laptop I’m writing this on.

This Father’s Day I thank you both for the tremendous influence you have been in my life.

Happy Father’s Day and (a little late) Happy Mother’s Day,

Love, Jim

Author: james bruce mcnaughton

I became Seriously Mentally Ill at age 18, ten years later I got and took the right meds, I accepted Jesus, and my recovery began.

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