An open letter: Adam to his son – by Adam Hislop

To the little baby boy growing in my wife’s belly:

Hello. I’m Adam, and I’m going to be your father. 

Every day I think about what it will be like with you in our lives. I dream about playing hide and seek, teaching you how to build a fort and climb a tree, building snowmen and playing with Lego… sharing the joys and wonder of childhood with you. 

I dream about the life I want to give you – full of love, acceptance, and laughter. A warm bed at night and tasty food on your plate. The education you need and the opportunity for you to follow your passions. 

As you grow older, I’m looking forward to sharing our faith and principles with you. Your grandparents taught me what it means to live an honourable life, caring for others and committed to showing the love of God to the world around them. As you grow older you’ll realize that this is a broken world, with hurt and pain, but we can each make a difference, one small step at a time. It’s our job to do this. I hope to pass along how important this is to you.

I want to show you how to love and respect your mother. She means the world to me, and I want you to see this every day of your life. You’ll never fully understand your mother’s commitment to you. I’ve been around for 32 years now, and I’m only beginning to realize what a mother does for her children. 

I promise to provide for you and work hard to give you what you need, and I want to teach you to be grateful for everything we have. We are rich–we have a roof over our head, food in our belly, and most importantly, family and friends that love us very much. Treasure these things always. 

I hope you are hungry to learn about this world around us, and let your curiosity lead you into plenty of productive mischief. Take every opportunity to learn and grow. Be happy and positive. I absolutely can’t wait to meet you. I’ve never looked forward to a moment with such excitement and trepidation. It’s going to be an adventure for the three of us, but I wouldn’t want to take this journey with anyone else.

See you April 6 – hopefully not much sooner. I have a lot of work still to do on your room.

Love, Dad