Three days ago, the number of people in this world that I would die for increased by one. I love you River. I want you to let that marinate. I have loved you from the very beginning. This is significant because you haven’t done anything yet, you can’t do anything.
On paper, it would seem you actively work to discourage my love. You sleep all day and party all night. Our 3:00am hallway pace sessions are indeed tiring, but lovely nonetheless. Yesterday morning we braved a sea of perspiring humans at the laboratory to have your blood drawn. Let’s see; you already exploded a diaper. At two days old that’s some impressive velocity. It has certainly been some time since I last scrubbed a stained nightgown at 4:15am.
The point is this, River: you can’t earn my love. Simply put, you are stuck with it. Whether you like it or not, this is your lot in life. My love is imperfect. A time will come when I will act selfishly toward you and you won’t feel like I love you. Also, a time will come when I will make a decision that is the opposite of what you want or think you need – just ask your older sister.
Underneath all turmoil, hurt feelings, resentment, and whatever else comes our way as our relationship grows, please understand that at the beginning of everything, it was simple. And as your father, things will always remain simple.
I love you River. Welcome to our family.