Fathers Unseen

Dear Eston,

I feel compelled to write this and hide it in place where you have the greatest chance to finding it in the future. It is likely not as urgent in real life as it is in my head, change is coming, but tortuously slow, but writing it gets it out of my head and allows it to find its own place. It’s not a prayer, though it could be. It’s less of a prayer because of its public nature. Prayers are private. I am making this public because others need to know: I feel. You need to know, when the time is right. If you know too much before the time is right, then I simply failed in one of my parental duties. In the future, if you ever find yourself questioning a thing and you don’t have immediate access to me to sort the thing, you need only find anyone who knows me or knew me, even if that was a casual knowing, they will tell you this thing is true: I love you. I love you so much that sometimes my heart feels like it might go nova. Who knows, maybe others have felt this thing too but couldn’t find the words, though the words have been said many times in many ways and in many languages, but every era of us needs an anchor point, and so maybe Eston’s letter becomes vehicle for others to share a thing. Maybe people need to remember fathers love their children, too. Maybe this goes viral and the whole world will say ‘I love you, Eston,’ so loudly you will never doubt your whole life. Too many children go without fathers; it is my opinion that this is wrong.

Of course, I have told you ‘I love you,’ and I will continue to tell you daily, but sometimes in an absence, people forget things. We need to be reminded in word and in action. In an absence of a reminder, people invent things. People remember things wrong. This is normal. You’re not broken. Everyone does this. I do it. We live most of our lives in a place called action-potential, with faulty perceptions. Our senses are not good tools for measuring the validity of a thing; we need an instrument of measure. Most the time, things never rise to the level of being actionable. Finding the appropriate balance of knowing when and how to act is the only true measure of a man. If you’re too assertive, you will be deemed aggressive. If you’re too tolerant, you will be considered lazy, passionless, or a tool. If you’re too quick with an opinion, you will be considered irrational at best, judgmental at worse. It is rare that a man is ever judged by kindness. A man is more likely to be judged by how much he earns; too much is greed, too little can be considered criminal. Money has never been a good measure of a man. Don’t fall for that nonsense. Also, don’t question the fairness of it. Seeking equality in all things is madness. Life is simply not fair. And it sure as hell is not ‘all good.’ Dead puppies suck. Babies with cancer suck. Being away from a child sucks. Sucky thing suck and they need be called what they are. I will agree to ‘it is what it is.’ There would be no need for letters like these if life were fair and every person was on point. People make decisions for their lives and that’s it. You’re learning to make decisions by witnessing how others make decisions around you. Some do it better than others, but it’s not just that… All of us do some things better than others, and that why we have other people. The sad truth is I won’t always be available to help you with life’s lessons. Ideally a child has two parents, family, teachers, and friends. No one does it great alone; teams are always better than individuals.

In addition to people, you need a philosophy to navigate your world. Not my world. Not her world. Not anyone’s and everyone’s world. Your world. Here is my present model for making decisions. I have learned, the hard way, to boil everything down to one simple equation. I have written about it elsewhere. The equation is fight, flight, or love. I have done a hell of a lot of fighting. It has brought me nothing but fatigue and loneliness. It’s okay if you chose this path. Sometimes it’s the right choice. “To everything, turn, turn, turn. There is a season…” The thing about drawing a line in the sand is this: you will never draw that line long enough to encapsulate the entire Universe. It’s just bigger than you are. I have done my share of running, too. The thing about running away, which is also true about fighting, the thing you run from will haunt you, because that thing isn’t outside you, it’s inside you and goes where you go. Even if you contained the thing by that line in the sand, well, it remains lurking just on the other side of that line. You occupy both sides. There are no sides. Dwell on that.

It seems to me that love is the only right choice in this equation. Love is patient. It is kindness. It is always long suffering. Long suffering is seeking to understand a thing without judgement or action. Love is trusting that when you know you don’t have this, a higher power does. (That’s true regardless of faith.) Love is embracing a thing, even if it is painful. There is a difference between pain and harm. A dentist causes pain, but if he is good, he does not cause harm. Love is the realization that the world is ever changing and that if you wait, if you just breathe through a thing, you will get to the other side whether you escalated something to action or not. Long suffering is discernment. As I said above, there are times to fight. Fighting to preserve life and freedom, that’s a very reasonable thing to do. Standing between a bully and a victim, that’s huge. Running away when you’re out numbered and out gunned, well, that’s just smart, and gives you a chance to breathe and come up with a solution. The thing is, if you live in fight or flight mode all your life, everything will seem actionable, and you will be more likely to blow things up that shouldn’t be blown up. Preserving freedom means allowing others to make choices, even if the choice disturbs you on more than one level. Even if that choice affects you profoundly, beyond disappointment, beyond anger, beyond anything rational. Love is the only vehicle that brings you back to right thinking.

Long suffering is love. Love is forgiveness. Love is compassion. Love is understanding. Love is knowing that every time you blow something up, there are casualties. Love is about minimizing injuries. Love is demonstrating a way of being. I hope you will always remember that I was patient, consistent, and that I never disparaged another in front of you. I spoke with kindness in front of you because I want you to know how you treat others is ultimately how you treat yourself. This doesn’t mean you weren’t aware of things, the unvoiced, unseen things beneath the surface of it all. We all have this. I, too, struggle, and sometimes I fail to channel love. You are smart, and you have this huge intuitive thing going for you, and you’re paying attention. I suspect you’re seeing reality better than I. I have no doubt your mother loves you. This is not a contest. This is not about who does a thing better. She does some things well. I do some things well. It is a shame that we can’t celebrate those things we do well. It is what it is.

She and I agree on one thing, your wellbeing. We may not agree on the fine details of that thing, but we agree on that much, and it is why, in this instance, at this age of you, you don’t get a choice. This, too, is love. Adults are adults, and they make the decisions, for better or worse, and there is no way for us to prevent you from forming your own conclusions based on your perception of the evidence. Do not rely on your senses alone; don’t rely on just your memory of things, because there were other things influencing, unseen things. Not loving things. For every choice, there are consequences. For every thought, for every action, for every inaction there are consequences, so we make choices as best we can to try and minimize consequences and maximize benefits. Some people do better math than others. People judge first by the surface of a thing, rarely the heart of a thing. You got to dig deeper, in life, in self, in others. Rarely does a person respond to the reality of a thing; we almost always respond either to a past thing, or to our default programming. Breathe, go deeper. I never abandoned you. I am merely choosing a deeper love. I am taking the bigger injury for myself so that your injury is minimized. This is public, so long suffering isn’t always quiet suffering. People know. People need to know! People choose sides. It’s what we do. Most people recommend fight, ‘you’re entitled,’ ‘you have rights.’ That’s true. So does she. There is absolutely no fairness in this. One doesn’t have to cut a baby in half to determine Solomon wise. My position is, this is not just about me. It affects me; it pains me deeply, but I am doing the math. There are variables and I am betting on the long game. In this instance fighting causes more damage; I refuse to push you into a place where you must take sides and prove loyalty. You’re 4; that game ain’t happening. You have nothing to prove. You just be you, love, learn, laugh, for God’s sake keep laughing, play, and just be Eston. In this instance, running away isn’t an option. I will be here, and available, just doing what I have always done, the best I can. In this instance, love is the only winning solution. Love is long suffering. It is steady, methodical, ever plodding ahead, being consistent, breathing… Breathing.

These things I am sharing here are not new. You can find them in the core movies I watched, in my song list. I tried sharing something with you on youtube while you were in Thailand, thinking you might enjoy that, but it got killed by censor filters. Probably because I sang a Beatles’ song. As if they could copy right a heart and block love. Breathe. We have songs in common enough, and you will have new songs. If you don’t arrive at this thing on your own intuitively, or through the direct messages I have provided, you will find this lost in a pile of notes, or someone will say to you, ‘did you ever read this thing,’ and you will know I wrote this. You will find others notes that echo this. You are loved. You are safe. When you take apart the Legos we have built together, you will find hidden messages I left you. Treasures within treasures, tucked away for future discoveries. You may find notes in the books we read together, or books I would like you to read. I am only echoing the truth I found in small measures along my way. No matter how far apart we seem in space-time, no matter where you are in this country, or this world, or this life, or any other lives, I am only a heartbeat away. Breathe, go into your heart; this light of your shines out for the world to see, but it also receives. This is love; this light shines like a beacon throughout the Universe, and it never dies. The heart may stop, but the light is forever. The whole universe is made of light. Any perceived absence of me is an illusion. Find your song, and breathe through this thing, and love. Choose Love.

PS, know this, too: I would re-live my entire life over a million times without changing one thing just so that I might meet you again. I would endure a billion insults and failures just to know you. Because I love you. You’re my son.

Always, Dad.