Enter Quinn

You arrived in this world at 10AM on Sunday July 31^st. You were late, as your sister and brother before you were, and as we expected you would be. Your mother fought for 2 ½ hours to bring you into this world. She took no drugs to dull the pain, she fought mentally and physically the likes of which I don’t believe I have ever seen before, until we held you in our arms. So begins your journey, and so continues that of our family.

Your sister Cora will turn 6 years old in 3 months, your brother Deacon will turn 3 years old in 2 months. Cora is filled with silliness and has a vivid imagination. She would bask in conversation and play for as long as any willing person will indulge her. She loves her long blonde hair, going on adventures with her daddy, candy of all sorts and she loves you. She was so excited to help place your crib in her room, and to prepare for your arrival. I hope she will be just as enthusiastic someday when you share a closet and bathroom in your teenage years.

Deacon did not know what to make of you for the first 2 days. He warily kept his distance and merely observed. When you were in your mother’s womb he would often hug her belly, and talk about being gentile with “baby Quinn”. He now tells you he loves you more freely than he has said it to anyone else, he holds you and shows a tenderness that I hope will last your lifetimes. He loves tools, trucks, guns and cuddles. He has bright eyes and a gentile spirit, he will melt into my arms completely at times, yet at others he makes a point to be independent.

I have had two children before you, but I have seemed to forget how small babies can be, how delicate and soft, how completely encompassed my heart can be by something so small. In all likelihood you will be the last child your mother and I have, and therefore always be our baby.

You enter this world in a year as uncertain as any. I consider myself an armature student of history, and thus far I have seen nothing take place that has not happened in some way before. That is not necessarily comforting mind you, but calamity was never avoided from enveloping oneself in a sea of worry, nor was progress ever made through sheer apathy. I take moderation in all things to be the best measure, and so I will do what I am able, to affect the things I can, while not concerning myself with the hypothetic or with things well out of my control.

I am now 32 years old, I often forget that and think I am 33. Your mother is 29 years old. We took you on a babymoon/ 30^th birthday last hurrah to France for 11 days. I can’t say you enjoyed it as you were still months away from being born, but at least you can claim to have had fine French wine (in moderation) and fine French cuisine well before any of your siblings. My life feels more and more dedicated to my family, and every day I feel a little farther from the me I thought I once knew so well. I started this blog to reach my children in a way that my father had not reached me. I started this so you would know me along our journey, not merely towards the end of it looking back, but along the way. You will know me, more than any save your mother, you will know me. My faults, my quirks, my qualities and my love. I started this most of all so all my children would know my love for them.

Perhaps it has been you and your siblings that have changed me so much so that I do not know myself as I once did. Perhaps it is the knowledge of a deeper level of love, of selflessness that I could not understandably comprehend before I became a father. I am not my own man any longer, my life is dedicated to you, and that responsibility too has changed me, for what would I not sacrifice for my family?

I love you completely, you cannot separate yourself from my love through distance or action, through time or neglect. I am bound to serve you, to lay down my life to make yours better. I will be here to support you, to surround you in love, to guide you when you heed my wisdom, and to wait patiently when you do not. I will also learn from you, as I have learned from your sister and brother. Our lives will be tied together in a mosaic, small in the specter of time and space, but encompassing in the aperture of our eyes. I will do what I can to make it beautiful for you, as you are beautiful to me. I love you Quinn, completely. You are my sweet girl, and I will forever be your father.