This is the first in many letters I'll write you, I'm sure. A way I guess to remind myself this is all real. To try to put the worries and anxiety of if this is all real, if you're real, away for a moment - and just plan, imagine, dream for the future.
I've thought a lot about what I'll want to tell you, what I'll want you to know growing up - what kind of parent I'll strive to be. What kind of parent I'll fight against being (what comes natural isn't always right, something I'm sure I'll prove to you in my actions over and over and over again.)
But mostly, when I think of some of the first things I want you to know for sure, without doubt and with utter confidence - the answer seems obvious. Stupidly, wonderfully, plainly obvious.
That I am, and your dad with me, stupidly, wonderfully, plainly in love.
We live in a world that isn't perfect. We're making the conscious decision to bring you into a world that is cruel, and mean. That is full of war and destruction. That is dirty and awful, that is slowly being destroyed - in little ways people are too selfish to think about - and in big ways that people decide every day are worth it for mere convenience and monetary gain.
People do horrible things in this world. And I don’t mean just the big stuff that mightn't ever touch you (I pray) - the genocide, the political upheaval, the sheer abandonment of millions. . . but every day people do the truly horrible things - they are ignorant to each other, they are indifferent, they are cruel in only the way you can be to those who love you most.
And yet, here we are - your dad and I, clearing space for you. Setting you in the midst of all of this, opening it up to you - putting it before you. Entering you into this world, knowing all it contains.
And I guess that's why the decision was so easy despite all the horrid things. All the horrid actions people take. Because we know all this world contains.
We know what the world can be when you find love. What the world can be with a hand tight in your own, standing at the edge of the ocean. How much it can hold, how much peace and love (and yes, here I go) understanding, is possible with the breath of your best friend there with you in the dark.
We know that no matter how the universe spins around, nothing is impossible to overcome when you have love in your life. That great change can come from the smallest of actions, and that a smile across a room can light up the very world.
So I know now, that despite all the cruelty this world holds, despite all the violence and ignorance - there is great possibility and great hope.
I always had hoped for it, always had held it in my heart like a precious secret - but now, now I know it. As sure as the ground beneath my feet, the sky above my head. And that's what I want for you, and I think the thing that taught me this most dramatically, what pointed to it, led me there, and keeps me there without waiver - is what will also hold you.What I hope will be ever so real for you.
That your dad and I are stupidly, wonderfully, plainly, in love. With each other, and with every day that passes - with the very idea of you. There are few things in this world that are constant, but few are as stalwartly as this.
You are coming into a world, a home, where love is prevalent. Where it is in every aspect of our lives, and burns bright enough to keep the ugliness at bay.
I refuse to believe that this is common, but rather believe it is something we’ve been blessed with – your dad and I. Something to be treasured and nourished; and that’s how we treat it. Not a day goes by I’m not thankful for it. Not a day goes by we don’t make the conscious effort to keep it.
And we will do the same with you. Are doing the same, already. Every day. Being thankful and conscious. Filling our space with love.
I think despite all the other things we may mess up for you, this one thing will make up.
6 years ago