Dear Child

Dear Child,

It’s rather an odd thing I’m doing—writing a letter to someone who hasn’t been conceived and in fact may never be conceived—but you are and have always been very real to me, and loving you has made me far better than I would otherwise be. And I do love you, beyond all reason.

Back in the bad old days I dreamed of being your daddy and that dream helped me endure when it seemed ending was my best choice. Back in the bad old days, what kept me striving to be better than I thought I could be was the desire to be the daddy you deserve.

Loving you without condition—what condition could I possibly impose?—made me love the other children I encountered; indeed, you are the reason I love being a teacher. Loving you is the reason I cry when I hear the song “These Are My Children” or “Zoe Jane.” Loving you paved the way for me to someday finally love even myself.

And in these good new days I love you still; love you more, if that’s even possible, because in these good new days I finally believe myself worthy to be your daddy. I always believed (or wanted to believe) that I’d be a good daddy, but that belief was, in the bad old days, more a forlorn hope. In these good new days, I am confident.

I do not know if we will meet in this or any life—I do not know anything, really, about what is to come—but I know this: I love you. I will always love you.

Love,
Daddy