3/24/21

Dear Atlas,

It’s me, your Dad.

By the time you read this, I don’t know what it will be like in the world, either mine or yours. I know our future together will be filled with memories, laughter, and love as a family.

Family is the greatest treasure you can have, Atlas. That’s a lesson you’ll find out someday. If I had to explain this lesson to you in a way that you’d understand as time went by, it would go something like this:

When you stub your toe on the side of a couch (or on the very sharp edge of a live wood slab on our coffee table . . .), the only thing you can think about is pain. Nothing else matters at that moment. Trust me, you aren’t thinking about the bills that are due or the last time you laughed, made love, or cried. You’re in a moment of excruciating pain.

Family is the inverse of that. They are the common thread of love that you can rely on for support in your life.

It doesn’t come easily, though. Your Mom and I will be the first to tell you that our relationship took some fine-tuning, a few phone calls and some heartfelt conversations with each other . . . while the bags were packed.

Through it all, I’ve learned to love your Mom—and you—a lot more. Our conflicts were a lot like the stubbed-toe scenario. One of us “stubbed” an emotional toe (our own or the other’s) and a reaction ensued that blinded us to everything else.

We chose to stay, Atlas. We held our ground, drew our boundaries, and learned to love, respect, and forgive each other in new dimensions.

A lot can happen in a short time; nothing reminds me of this universal truth more than you. You’re growing every single day. There is nothing in the universe more complex, valuable, or intricate than . . . you.

I love you, Atlas. You aren’t a tiny speck in the universe, but an entirely new universe in a human-sized package.

Love,

Dad