i write for my dad

a tribute to my father

I was going to wait for a special occasion to write this, but I figured something out that I want to pass to you all; if you have something to say to someone you love, say it now. Don't wait for a birthday or Christmas. Don't wait for Mother's Day or Father's Day. Say it now. You are never promised tomorrow or even the next hour.

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I wanted to share with you all why I decided to add a blog, or "musings" tab to this photography website I've created. The answer is simple. I added this page for my dad. My number one cheerleader since my first day on this great Earth. I know, ever since my first foray into writing in the third grade, my father has always wanted me to be a writer and pursue a career as a writer. The cards, clearly, never fell that way for me. Whether it be my stubborn drive to be a fine artist like my mother or sister, or my fear of failure in the one thing I was given a natural born talent to do, I don't know. It simply did not happen. However, that doesn't mean I can't still write. I owe it to myself, and I owe it to my dad.

Please let me tell you something about this man. My father. My "daddio." Martin Ritter. I'll bet just about anything that you won't find a better one than he. I still have yet to find another man, let alone another person at all, as in depth and well read as my father. From an early age, I was taught to appreciate the beauty in the finite details of life. When entering an old structure, look up at the beams holding up the roof. Look up and be amazed at the craftsmanship, constructed by primitive tools by the rough and calloused hands of men long since gone from this world.

While on a leisurely walk, look around you at Mother Earth's beauty. What do you see? What birds sing around you? Is that a red tailed hawk up there? A bald eagle? Either way, stop to witness them and appreciate them. Stop to to truly appreciate how lucky we are to be alive to see such amazing wonders. Observe the vibrant green of the leaves in the trees and their weathered, knotted bark. Feel the ancient wisdom that surrounds you in the forests, or gazing out upon any sea.

I swear, if it weren't for my dad, I wouldn't be so giddy to stop just about any conversation to point out a hot air balloon floating high in the sky above us, or a Great Blue Heron fishing in a nearby pond, or a newborn rainbow forming after freshly fallen rain. How dull this world would be had he never taught me to look beyond the gray misery of modern life upon the vast and colorful tapestry of the big picture!

I'll let you in on a little insider's perspective. Every time I proudly send off a piece of writing or poetry to my father, I am guaranteed to receive a follow up email that contains a response from a friend of his. In fact, several follow up emails come my way as he proudly shows my work to his friends and they reply in their support. These, of course, only follow a phone call from the man of the hour, his voice full of emotion and pride. We discuss the piece I sent, my inspiration for it, and the details he thinks to be the most profound for himself. I don't know if he will ever understand how much this means to me. I don't know if his friends will ever feel the true heat of the sunshine that fills my soul as I read their kind and encouraging words. To be completely vulnerable and transparent with you all; every time I write, I think of what my father will think of it. I let that be my guide and inspiration to create truly profound passages, poems, and blog posts.

I sit here now, staring at the blinking cursor on this page, now overwhelmed by all I could tell you about dad. I want to share with you his love of nature, especially birds. His steadfastness in making sure I filled our bird feeders after returning from school. He's sure they're hungry! I want to tell you about how he introduced me to Gordon Lightfoot's music at an early age, instilling in me a love of classic ballads that tell heart wrenching stories of love and heartbreak and adventure. I would love to share with you his devotion to my mother. A love that will always stand the test of time. A love that drove me to find one just like it. Maybe I want to tell you of this man's ability to share his emotional vulnerability with the world as he cried into my mother's shoulder as they danced at my wedding to Willie Nelson's "Always On My Mind." There's too much to tell you in a single entry. How can you sum up unconditional love in one blog post? You can't! I would likely lose you all by the tenth paragraph.

With this said, perhaps this isn't the only blog I will write paying homage to my father. The likelihood is high I may write more, diving into some favorite details or looking back on some of the most impactful lessons he's taught me (of which there are many). I simply wanted to start with this very post, to create almost a prologue for you. For if you haven't had the pleasure of meeting Martin Ritter, maybe you can experience him, even just a little bit, through my eyes and my words.

To my father, I want to reiterate my beginning point. I write for you, daddio. I write, not just because I enjoy it, but because making you proud and happy is worth more than anything in the world to me. After everything you've done for me, for my sister, for mom? You deserve to smile. You deserve to laugh. To cry tears of joy.

You deserve the world, dad, because it is the world you have given to us.