Friday 13th October 2023 

Letter #1 – On the Day You Were Born 

Dear William,

You were born two weeks ago today.

I got this idea to start an email address for you, writing you emails from time to time. I found the idea on Twitter or some similar social media site. I wonder what social media will look like by the time you are old enough to read this. My guess is that it’ll have changed substantially, as most things tend to do. The beauty of technology.

I digress. I thought about writing you earlier, the day you were born.

I have my own journal entry for that day and think that looking back on your first two weeks in this world is a fair starting point. You have brought, already, tremendous joy to Mom and me. Mom does a lot for you. She seems to have this instinctive knowledge of what you want at all times. She knows what each cry means and she spends hours upon hours with you every day. She says that can’t stay apart from you.

I don’t blame her.

When I go to work (I work in a school as a teacher), I think of you often. Mom makes sure to send me pictures of you throughout the day. They’re mostly the same pose, you swaddled in the sleepyhead. There are some with your eyes open and some just after pooping or eating. These two things follow one another in close succession. She sends me video of you with your pacifier.

Mom and I talk a lot about how lucky we are to have you. You’re healthy and you seem happy. You’re big for your age already and my guess is that you’re going to be a big guy, much bigger than me. I look forward to the day when we stand eye to eye.

I tell Mom that you’re destined for greatness. That you’re going to be a Navy SEAL, shortstop for the Yankeees and President of the USA. Fact is that I want you to do what you want. We live in this hectic world where we have this urge to tell other people what they should be doing. I don’t want to do that. I want what you want. Whatever you choose in your life, I’ll go along with it.

I’m not saying that there won’t be arguments along the way. I don’t intend on doing this job to perfection. No such thing. I’ll do my best. Hell, I’m not even quite sure how to hold you yet – Mom has to help with hand and pillow placements and all that.

I don’t know what to do when it comes to a baby, but I don’t think I need to know that. What I do know is that I love you and I will protect you until you can protect yourself. Even then, forgive me in advance, I will still try to protect you.

I will do the best I can at being Dad. You’ll read my book one day and you’ll see that I have a really good Dad (your grandpa). I’ll follow a lot of what he did and I’ll throw in some of my own ingredients.

Your Mom and I have made it a point to try and start you out with advantages. This world is busy and hectic and tough enough as it is. So, we thought it best to give you a head start on the race. Remember, though, in the end the race is only with yourself. That’s a lesson that took me a long time to learn, and my life is better for having learned it. I don’t want to ramble on about philosophy though, at least not yet. There’ll be plenty of letters about that.

Just know, as you start your own journey, that your Mom and I love you. We’re lucky to have you and we look forward to being your parents.

Enjoy the journey, William.

Love,

Dad