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Dear Zachary...

My darling boy:

This week you turned 18-months-old.

And as I watch you learn and laugh and smile, I’m so grateful…

Because you’ve earned each and every day.

Your little body carries the scars of two heart surgeries. Scars which serve as a constant reminder of the fear your mother and I faced as you made your way into our world.

Of course, since then, you’ve been a delight to your parents, your brothers and sister and the rest of our loud, raucous family.

You’ve discovered that chocolate is wonderful and that a well cooked French Fry is worth waiting for. You’ve learned that dogs are great to sleep against and that there’s nothing quite like splashing in the bathtub.

I’ve watched you watch your brothers and sister. And I know that you take in and absorb everything they show you.

You’re too young to realize it Zach, but living with you and seeing your strength has renewed my faith in God. You reinforce my hope in making the world a better place.

Your tiny hands are everywhere.

Most often they’re messy and many times, have been places they probably shouldn’t have — a recent adventure involving a ketchup bottle comes to mind.

But I understand that you’re exploring your world, and I find joy in watching you experience that world for the very first time.

You remind me how beautiful — and how fragile — life can be.

Zachary, you’ll never know — at least not until you have children of your own — just how much a parent can love their child.

Just when I think all hope is lost in the world you, my son, remind me how beautiful life can be. The peace that I have as you crawl up into my arms and drift off to sleep is life-giving. Watching you giggle as your mother touches you, or seeing you react to your brothers makes my darkest day a delight.

You have left your mark on my soul.

We’ve read books, the newspaper, and written many stories together — you and I.

And I’ve loved every minute.

Zach, I am so glad you are my son. I wish half the world, just for a day, could experience your courage. We would all be far better off.

Now, I watch as you change almost daily. You’re not the same child you were six months ago. OK, granted, those skinned knees you’ve acquired aren’t that much fun, but don’t you worry you’ll get it figured out.

Please know that I’m always here for you. I’m your dad and I promise you, with God as my witness, that I’ll do everything I can to keep you safe, healthy and happy.

All you have to do is keep smiling — and flirt with your mother occasionally, she really likes that.

We’ve got stacks of books, music and things for you to experience. Yes, I know you weren’t too thrilled with that first fireworks display, but being scared once in a while is OK. Just hold onto my hand and I’ll make sure the bad guys stay away.

Take your time and enjoy the fact that your mom and I are right next to you — always. When you were born, the bets were stacked against you; so you played the only hand you had — and the results were amazing.

Know that I thank God, each day, for the chance to be your dad. But most of all, I thank God each day for you.

All my love,
Dad.

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