a letter to my son

Dear Deacon,
[hopefully when you're old enough to read, you'll find this]
In a couple of days, I'm going to meet you for the first time. We're getting ready to get on a plane, and come meet you, get to know you, and bring you back home with us to live with us. We're kind of bummed that we didn't get to be a part of the first 6 months of your life, but really excited that we get to be a part of the rest of it.

Your mom and I were packing our suitcases tonight. We were packing yours too. We've got a whole suitcase of stuff we're bringing for you: diapers, clothes, socks, bottles, and TOYS! We're also bringing you some little shoes to wear. One pair of shoes are some Vans that we got at the mall for you. I used to wear Vans when I was in high school, and so we thought you should wear them too.

As I was taking the shoes out of the box to put into the suitcase for you, I decided to go ahead and lace them up. And I started thinking, "I have a lot to teach you." There are going to be tons of things I'm going to show you how to do: how to lace up and tie your shoes, how to ride a bike, how to put the toliet seat down for mommy [and maybe little sister one day], how to play the guitar and the drums, how to read, how to draw, and a whole bunch of other stuff. And when you get older I'll teach you how to drive a car, and how to mow the lawn, and how to study, and whatever else you need me to show you.

And hopefully I can teach you how to be some other things, that are really important, but a little harder to teach to someone. Like how to be brave, and how to work hard, and how to tell the truth, and how to help people, and how to judge what is right and do it. Some of that stuff we'll have to figure out together.

But your mom and I want you to know that we really do consider you our son. You haven't always been our son, we haven't always had you. But now you are our son. And that won't change.

We can't wait to meet you.

Love, Dad.