Dear Dad: A Father's Day Tribute to Weston's Thomas Lonergan

A Tribute to Thomas Lonergan from his little girl. Lonergan, a Weston resident, died unexpectedly in April.

Dear Dad,

You and I had an amazing journey. For 35 years, no matter where I was or what I was doing, I knew there was one person in this world who loved me, wholly and unconditionally, without judgment, every moment of every day. It is a rare and precious gift that you gave to me.

My whole life people have wondered how I could always be so happy, so confident and so full of joy, no matter what the circumstances. The answer is simple; you loved me. You loved me in a way that few are capable of, without judgment or condition. Your hopes and dreams never tied to my accomplishments or lack thereof. Your pride and acceptance of all of me, was so seamlessly woven into my day-to-day life that I never needed any justification, grand gestures or “things” to prove it’s worth. 

In fact, I can’t think of one gift that you gave to me. Instead, I remember thousands of little white notes strewn across the house and my childhood, like a map of my life. I would find them on the mirror, taped to my toothbrush, in the middle of the roll of toilet paper, under my pillow. You would mail them to me, these tiny notes in regular sized envelopes, every day at summer camp, and even to my college dorm and adult homes. Always with your silly handwriting, purposeful spelling errors and hysterical stick figure drawings that you knew would make me giggle and let me know how much I was loved.

It was like you made it your life mission to keep me laughing. Instead of expensive presents that many feel necessary to prove a parent’s love, I recall the absurdly ridiculous gifts that you would give to Mom. The ugliest robe you could find in Walgreens, oversized cheesy sweatshirts off the back of a truck in Southie, or ornate costume jewelry that you knew she would despise. You would mock surprise as she looked at these gifts in disgust and we all fell to the floor in hysterics. You innately understood how much more powerful was this gift of laughter.

I knew from early on, that whether I was athletic or awkward, first or last in the class academically, your pride and love would be the same. Seriously. None of it mattered to you. Only me and my giggles. I remember losing a big lacrosse game in college and calling home so upset. You answered, “Hey T, how’s soccer?” I dissolved into giggles. It was the perfect way to let me know that although my successes and failures should matter to me, it would never matter to you. You somehow managed the impossible parenting task of giving me the love, support and confidence I needed to do well in life, while never conditioning your love on the success.

And you only saw my beauty. What a gift for a girl and a woman. I was huge in my pregnancy and everyone commented on my size. You looked right at my belly one day and said, so sincerely, “T, I just don’t see it.” And I knew you didn’t. You couldn’t. You only saw the purest beauty in me, nothing else. It was incredible. So sweet. So genuine. So pure. Just love. All love.

You really carried me through these last few years, Dad. Stepping in as a Father for my little girl and making what could have been a very difficult time so much fun. I never felt lonely. You gave that to me. I will now cherish those years full of first words, first steps and joyous giggles when we had Sadie all to ourselves.

Your simple, selfless and beautiful love has given me the strength to deal with all of life’s curveballs, even managing the hardest moment of my life, saying goodbye to you, my sweet Dad. I will go on somehow with happiness and joy, doing my best to give to my family every day what you gave so effortlessly to me. Love. Laughter. Acceptance. Joy. I am so grateful for all that we had and all that I now have because of you. I will always be your little girl. I love you, Dad.

T. T. O. T (Kristin L.B Oseychik)

(Editor's Note: If you'd like to pay tribute to your dad for Father's Day, email the editor at abby@patch.com.)