3 years.

Dear Jack,

So back to what I was saying a minute ago in the first part of this letter…

There’s stuff that, as great as she is, Mommy just isn’t designed to help me talk through and understand. And vice versa, I want her to hang out with her girlfriends, without you and me around, so she can get the encouragement she needs in a way that I’ll never be able to handle.

In the movie, Big Fish, the whole plot is rooted in the fact that a grown man with a child on the way, is attempting to find out who his own father really is.

His father (subconsciously) refused to meet his son on a deep, emotional level; instead the father seemed to only tell lavished versions of stories of his own life, so the son grew up never really even know who his dad was, in a way. The son therefore couldn’t really relate to his dad.

Yes, the father had always physcially provided for his son; no question there. But the father was, in essence, emotionally absent.

I vow to you: I’m going to be here for you emotionally, not just physically.

And I think a big part of that happening means that right now, I make a proclamation to you:

You can talk to me anytime, about anything.

It’s not enough that you know that. You need to be reminded… so I will do that too.

I realize I will not always be the first fellow guy you want to talk to about certain things, but please know you can talk to me, whether it’s to have someone to listen, or somone to give you season advice, or both.

I’m here. I’m not like the dad on the movie Big Fish.

Love,

Daddy