4/25/21

Dear Atlas,

It’s me, your Dad.

I wonder a lot how life will be when you someday read these notes. I wonder if you’ll read all of them or find any joy in knowing your Dad was thinking about you long before you were here.

Sometimes it’s hard to write these letters to you. I feel like I don’t have a lot to say. Or I feel like there’s too much going on in my own head to be able to give you any sort of wisdom. It’s hard to feel like I’m doing a good job as your Dad when I feel like I’m drowning, Son.

But then I realize one day you and I will ride in the 944 and have Father-Son talks, as men. It won’t matter how old you are, either. I want you to know that you will always be a man to me, your Dad.

Thing is, most of us men are trying to figure out what it means to be a man. Some of us figure out it doesn’t involve trucks, guns, or flannel clothing. Others stay in that loop for many years . . .

I’m doing my best to keep my head above water these days, Atlas. I have a lot going on in my mind, and I’m doing my best to make good decisions ahead of your arrival.

Love,

Dad