Read this first

Patrick and Thomas, 

Being your dad has been the greatest pleasure, and the greatest responsibility, of my life. Seeing the world through your eyes, as you discovered each new wonder, brought me the same joy that you were feeling. Each new thing you learned, and each new accomplishment, filled me with pride and amazement. "He's walking? Talking? How is that possible?" But along with that came worry and doubt. "How do I protect him? Should I be teaching him other things? How can I prevent my weaknesses from becoming his?" 

Like all parents, your mom and I learned to live on this teeter-totter of ecstasy and dread, to trust our instincts, to do our best, and simply to love you as much and as well as we could. It was all we could do, so it would need to be enough.

As you grew, the joys and the worries continually changed. I adapted, but often too slowly. I hovered over a confidently-walking toddler a bit too closely, and intervened when the teen needed to learn from his own mistakes. Despite that, you thrived, and became the amazing, complex, loving, perfect men you are today.

Dad's job done, right? Well, it doesn't feel that way. I still worry about the words not yet said, the lessons not taught, the feelings unexpressed, the mistakes I've made that I need to help you avoid. From the distance of separate adult lives, there are few opportunities to say these things, and fewer still when the time is right and you actually want to hear them. 

So I've made this place to write a few things down, in these letters, almost certainly more for my own benefit than for yours. I hope that you read some of them, when the time is right, and that something I've learned in my miraculous gem of time being alive, or something I find a way to express about the depth of my love for each of you, helps you when you need it. Life, like parenthood, can feel like a teeter-totter. May these letters be a friend on the other side, when you need one, to make the highs a bit higher and the lows not so low.

Love,

Dad