An Open Letter To My Son In Honor of His Birthday

Dear James,

First, welcome to the world! I wanted to take the opportunity, as your new “old man” to give you some advice.

You have my condolences that your birthday is so close to Christmas, but frankly, we doubted you'd show up at all. The pleasure of this day mostly belongs to your mother and I, regardless of whatever fun or anticipation it may mean to you in future years. To us, you're the best Christmas present either of us has ever received.

And it's gifts and receiving that my first advice to you directly concerns.

As you get older you're going to hear a lot of people say something to the tune of “tis better to give than to receive.” Maybe this is new to you since, well, everything is new to you right now, but this is an old old old old chestnut. It doesn't get much more cliché than this.

But clichés serve a purpose. Clichés become clichés because they have value and are easily accessible. Right now, and for the next several years, you feel like you're the center of the universe, the star in your own movie. And we're all extras or, at best, play supporting roles. But at some point you're going to need to realize that everyone else feels the same way about themselves, and that we're all wrong at the same time. That means that at some point, like Luke Skywalker realizing that Vader is his Father, we realize that we're all living in an illusion. Thereafter, we half expect the world to be taken down like a used up movie set and casually destroyed. Nevertheless, we tend to be more usefull and happy people when we choose to live in the world as it is, not as we wish it was. So, while “tis better to give than to receive” is anything but original, it's a solid point well taken.

But at some point, you'll need to learn, or more precisely, re-learn how to receive. It's harder than it looks sometimes. In fact, one of the things that makes you so wonderful right now is your innocence, your ability to take what you're given without question.

Receiving gets harder as you get older. Over time, as the disappointments start to pile on, you might start to get the idea that anything good that comes into your life is an accident, like finding money in the street. But you need to know that nothing good is an accident. Everything good has a loving, intelligent, omnipotent source: God.

I offer this as my first piece of advice to you because the world will try to beat this idea right out of you. If what you get isn't so good, you'll be tempted blame yourself for it. Well, don't blame yourself. The world is messed up. (I would say don't blame me, that this is pretty much how it was when I got here, but that would sound as hollow to you as it does to me when it comes from the generations that came before me.) Bad things do happen, even if we don't deserve them. The easiest reaction along the path of least resistance is to conclude that we probably deserve those bad things after all. This world view may make sense on some level, and there's a certain serenity in being able to make sense of the world. I sympathize. But in this case, this way of thinking carries a terrible, painful price. Take my word for it: it's not worth it.

The price is cynicism. The price is a loss of innocence, that quality you possess right now which is one of the things making you such a celebrity in the family

So learn to receive. Giving gifts is supposed to teach us about unselfishness. But receiving gifts is supposed to teach us things too, things worth considering, especially when your birthday comes around, followed closely by Christmas. Receiving teaches us how to be innocent again, to accept the good things that come your way without asking 'what's the catch?' It teaches us wonder and gratitude. I beg you to try to hang on to these qualities. In a world of traffic jams, Amber alerts, war, recessions, depressions, tax hikes, and other daily hassles it can be easy to miss the miracles right under your nose.

If you can keep seeing the wonder of things, well, kid, you've got life's golden ticket. Don't ever let go of it. And the people who will try to talk you out of it's value are people who wish they still had theirs. Don't listen to them.

Magic does exist. I'm proof of that. So is your mom. So is every blessing that comes into your life, from your first kiss to your first-born child.

I close, echoing the advice of a writer name Roald Dahl:

“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden is the most unlikely place. Those who don't believe in magic will never find it.”

So believe in magic, son. This is a good time of year for it.

Merry Christmas and Happy Birthday!

Love,

Dad