4/18/21

Dear Atlas,

It’s me, your Dad.

Most mornings when I wake up, I step outside to prepare an “offering” for the birds that gather nearby. They’re beautiful birds, Atlas—black and blue feathers, the most striking beaks. Whenever I see these birds, I think of you.

I often think about all the memories we will share as Father and Son. That bond is a sacred connection, Atlas. It’s one that I take very seriously. I recognize it as my job, along with your Mom, to show you what it means to be a person.

We both have things we hope to teach you as your parents while we experience this life thing together, as a family.

The thing I have to say about your Mom and me is that both of us have lived our lives in really unconventional ways—including all the steps that led to us meeting and having you.

Atlas, I sometimes worry when I look at the way the world is turning. However, I have to remind myself that every step of my life leading up to this point has been perfectly orchestrated, provided for, and led by forces bigger and smarter than myself, and their plans are better than anything I could have come up with.

I love you already, Atlas.

Dad