Tag Archives: Dad

A Letter from Dad

12 Apr

Yesterday, I got an e-mail from C. He had written me a letter – he told me that he’d been reading the letters I write to you. He reread the ones he’d already looked at, and read the new ones he missed, and they moved him, and he wanted me to know that he loved me for it. It was a nice surprise! Then, he wrote a letter to you.

Funny thing is, I was thinking about C the day before he e-mailed me. I was wondering what he was up to, where he’d been, how he was. I almost called him, but I got caught up in school work and forgot. Then I woke up yesterday morning, and I had e-mail from him. I thought to myself how it interesting it was that we were linked like that. Like I somehow thought of him strongly enough for him to feel it and respond – a cosmic connection of sorts. Then I realized our “link” isn’t so strange – it’s you. I get to keep the first love of my life in my life forever because of you. Not in the same way, but in a way that’s just as good. My first love is now my family. Not many girls get that lucky.

So, Little Man, this is a letter from your dad :)


Dear Little Man…

I have so many things to say to you, so much love to give and so little space to do it all. But first I want to take a second and tell you that if you are close to Renee while reading this, hug her and give her a great big kiss on the cheek. If she’s away, doing whatever amazing things it is she does nowadays, call her and tell her you love her. She loves you more than life itself, as I’m sure you can tell from these letters. And while I know for a fact that you love her, I also know that a hug from you can make any day amazing, and who knows, she may need it today.

With that said I want to tell you I love you, more than I can show. I’m the kind of guy that might have the occasional difficulty with letting the most important people in his life know how important they are, but I never, ever, ever, ever want you to doubt the fact that I love you and am so proud of everything you are and will be.

About three months from the time I’m writing this, you will be two years old. That amazes and blesses me. It blows my mind how much you’ve grown since the first time I saw you when I visited The B’s at their home about a month after you were born. It also amazes me that as little bitty as you were, that’s the first time I remember noticing that you reminded of my Grandaddy, your Great-Grandaddy. And still there is something I see in your eyes every time that makes me think of him. Maybe it’s the way your hair grows out all curly like his, or the fact that I know how much he would love to know you and so loves you now, even though he’s gone. Sometimes I like to think that when he got to heaven, he might have seen you getting ready to come down here and smiled, knowing that you would be an answered prayer and blessing to The B’s, and a blessing in disguise to me and Renee and our families as well. We were both so scared when we found out you were on your way, but through all the tears and mountains of fear, I would never trade the life I get to have watching you grow into the man you will be for anything.

I’ve always had this crazy little dream of being a musician, and until you, that dream was all about me. But when I met you and fell in love with you, it became about you too. I wanted to achieve my dreams more than I ever had before. Maybe because I want you to be as proud that I am a part of your life as I am that you’re a part of mine, or maybe because I want the whole world to hear about you in a song someday. But I want you to know that through all the guitars I play, all the songs I write and all the shows I perform, you are always on my mind. My dream has kind of changed from being a big successful musician to one day hearing that you were riding in the car, on your way to school and you asked J or E (who both have amazing musical tastes by the way) what song that is on the radio, and they were able to say, “That’s C playing for you.” That to me would be more success than any amount of money could ever buy.

About two months ago Renee gave me a Hope Box that she painted and filled with little things. It was supposed to be a present she made for me after she found out about you, but she held on to it until this year :) Well when I got it, it was filled of things that reminded me of my dreams: guitars, big cities and great songs, but it was also filled with things that reminded me of you. I immediately added to it your little hand print from your first Christmas. About a month later you and The B’s came for a visit, and I had this pair of sunglasses that I bought in Nashville and loved. Well as soon as I picked you up to hug you that day what did you reach for? My glasses. They were bent up before anyone could even try to get them away from you, and I have never been happier. You kept giving them to me and getting me to hold them on your face because they were too big for you, and every time they fell off you would laugh that famous laugh you have. I didn’t care about the glasses – you were so happy and having so much fun with them, and so was I :) As soon as I got home that night they went in my box as a little reminder of how amazing it is to see you smile.

Well, it’s late and I have to work in the morning so I believe I’ve rambled long enough. My little “note” has turned into a book I’m afraid. I love you Little Man, more than I love myself, even more than I love music, and nothing in the universe can change that. Ever. Hug and kiss The B’s for me!

With Love Forever and Always,


The first time C ever saw you :)

Daddy Dearest

28 Mar

On your first birthday, I got you a present, but I actually wrote cards to J and E. Well…they weren’t so much cards as they were letters. And maybe they weren’t so much letters as they were small novels. But either way, your first birthday was kind of like our first birthday as a family. I had chosen them and met them months before you showed up, but our families didn’t truly become one until that beautiful summer day.

Of course, J and I like to write each other all the time, and the birthday letter I wrote her was no small feat. She even wrote me one back that birthday weekend. But today, I kept thinking about the letter I wrote E.

The letter I wrote E was actually partially about my own father, Pop-pop 3. I’ll tell you all about growing up with Pop-Pop 3 one day – there’s just too much love and too much fun to fit it all in a couple of letters. He was, and continues to be, an amazing father to me. He was “the best-of-the-best” when it came to dads, as I told E. And though a lot of that is due to his constant support and constant pride and constant reminders that I am loved by him, that “best-of-the-best” title is also due to the little things.

Pop-pop 3 and I played ball all the time. Before we had a basketball goal in the driveway, he would empty out the garage and use our giant trash can as the “goal.” He would throw me pop-flies in the yard when we played baseball. He taught me how to throw a spiral football. He would play with me until it got too dark to see outside, and only then would we go back inside. He would take me out for ice cream every Wednesday in middle school, and then he’d hang out with me in the local library until I had dance class. He did a million little things for me, but they meant the most. They still do. Only now instead of ice cream, we go out for coffee. Instead of playing ball with me, he’ll change my oil or quietly help me do laundry when I’m deeply absorbed in my homework and not paying attention. Like I said…little things.

I’ve always known that he loves me to the ends of the earth. “To infinity and beyond” as we always say (thank you, Buzz Lightyear). And my dad actually had a big influence on your adoption. I wanted you to have a dad like mine. I wanted your childhood to be everything mine was – filled with love and little things. And though I would have absolutely given those things to you – pop-flies, football until dark, ice cream Wednesdays – I wanted you to do those things with a dad, too. I wanted you to have a dad who does the small things, who never lets you forget that he loves you, whose love is obvious, even when he’s not saying it out loud.

E is that dad. Just like Pop-pop 3, he loves doing those little things. I saw that even before you were born, in the way he was with Sports Man. I saw in the pictures of him goofing around with Sports Man. I saw it in the way he showed off videos of how Sports Man could read and play basketball. It is no different with you. He loves playing the same games with you over and over, no matter silly they are. He loves playing ball outside. When you were just a month old, he already had the tradition of getting up with you, feeding you and then holding you while he drank coffee on the porch.

No one has ever reminded me of my own father as much as E does, and it’s beyond heartwarming. As my letter said, every time I see the two of you together, my hearts swells so much, I swear it could burst. He doesn’t even need to tell me how much he loves you. I can see it in the small things, sometimes just in the way he looks at you. Just like Pop-pop 3. And just like me, I’m pretty sure your first word was “da-da.”

As I’m sure you already know, your laugh is famous, and it’s also one of my favorite sounds in the whole wide world. As a matter of fact, quite a few of my favorite videos of you have you laughing in them. This one is of you and E, and it’s the first time I ever heard you laugh, which is why I treasure it so much. And of course, who was the first person I ever saw with ability to make you laugh? E.

You and I are quite the pair of lucky ones to have the dads that we do. When you’re finally old enough to read this, give E a hug when you’re done. Until then, I’ll give him twice as many hugs for the both of us :)

%d bloggers like this: