Dear brat,

I wanted to write you a note and explain myself.  I imagine by the time you are able to read this and understand it, the world will be a very different place than it is this moment, my hope is a much better place.  I wanted to explain why I waited, why I took so long doing something I wanted so bad.  I want to explain myself because I imagine by the time you read this I will have been pushing you to not hold back, to never delay and to reach for the stars.  I imagine you reading this thinking this isn’t Dad, he wouldn’t hesitate for a minute, but with you, I did.

As you already know you have two parents who love you.  I write this laughing with all certainty because even if you’re treated half as good as our two dogs now you’d make Paris Hilton jealous.  I imagine you and I at odds here and there.  You think I can be strict; I try to have too many rules and parameters.  I imagine your other dad however being a counter balance to me.  You’ll probably call him the "funner" dad since he’ll be letting you get away with crap behind my back.  We both guide you best we can to be an amazing person and I feel that you’ll get there even though I’m sure I’ll always wonder if I could have done more.

Your grandparents I’m sure will treat you like gold.  I imagine every time they come to visit or we drop you off to spend time with them I’ll be telling you to behave.  We’ll have to rein in their generosity for fear of spoiling the heck out of you.  Steve’s and my parents will embarrass us telling you stories of the crap we used to pull, you had better not get any ideas.  You’ll hear how big of a geek I was, and how brave your father was for serving this country and how scary it was to send a son to war.  You’ll know how wonderful of parents your grandparents were and how well we were raised.  You’ll also understand that family isn’t easy but it is always there.

You’ll probably live in the very same house as your father and I do now.  I picture you on the third floor, a friend of ours Adam rents that space now.  If you’re an only child I imagine you having too much space and filling it with pictures and posters.  If you have a sibling I imagine the third floor seeming bi-polar almost.  With some days the two of you getting along and others with small wars breaking out, sibling rivalry at its best.  The house is huge and it’s already like a big kids castle with all the games, an arcade machine and projector set up.  I’m sure that even though I can’t imagine how, our current game systems will be obsolete to you.  So we’ll have made room for whatever is the cool thing now that you just had to have.  Know this though, in the next year or so when it’s boring, expect to hear I told you so from me, and your other dad reminding you how much it cost and how it’s never used anymore.

You’ll have met many of our friends who we hold dear and probably the very same people we know today.  I imagine they will do their best to try and make you laugh at how silly your fathers were and how we made our own mistakes, noise and chaos in our time.  You’ll meet so many great people and friends we have made over the years and they will span this country and beyond its shores.  You’ll hear diverse stories and understand the world for the better because of it.  I imagine we’ll still be having karaoke parties and you’ll be embarrassed at watching a bunch of “old” people sing songs that are so dated, if you have even heard of them.  You’ll have so many “aunts” and “uncles” that won’t even be blood related it’s going to be ridiculous.  I know that each of them though will be your guardian angles and always there for you, like they are for your father and me.

Your father and I will have saved enough money to ensure that when you venture out into the world on your own that you can do so with a great education and bright future.  We will do our best to make sure you have a happy life, but also appreciate what you get.  I imagine when you’re able to work we’ll encourage you to get a job in the hopes you’ll appreciate making a living and be proud of doing so.  I want you to get excited about saving for something and then being able to purchase it knowing how hard you worked for it and then getting to realize the reward.

The thing I want you to understand though is why we waited.  By now you’ll know our story, what we fought for, what we stood for.  My hope is that it will seem almost comical to you.  That the world you live in is very different and that you can’t understand how people could be so hurtful, so cruel.  The reason we waited is because in some ways I’m already overprotective.  I already know you’ll be my pride and joy but I don’t want you to experience what having two dads is like right now.

I don’t want you going to school and having it be ok for people to publically ridicule your dad’s relationship.  I don’t want to have to explain why your dad’s don’t both have full custody over you.  Or explain how our marriage is acknowledged in some places and not others.  When you start to understand politics I don’t want to have to explain to you why a politician would compare us to pedophiles or our relationship to “man on horse” and be elevated instead of condemned by their party.  I never want to come home having been fired because I love your father and have the impact of hate be a financial risk to your future. 

I love you so much, I can already feel it rock my emotions to think of you being hurt by such hate.  I don’t even know your gender or name, but I know I want to protect you.  This world will not be easy, it will not be kind.  This world will also never cease to amaze you though and the beauty and wonder it brings will take your breath away daily.  Your dad I want to try and eliminate as much of the obstacles as possible, I want you to see so much more light than dark.

I hope that we aren’t too old to enjoy your youth and energy.  I hope that you feel so close to your father and I that you never need to have secrets and you allow us to be your parents and your best friend.  To be honest I worry this world won’t change, at least not in our life time.  Am I willing to continue waiting, one day regretting never had the chance to raise you, to make you more than a dream?  One day in the middle of this fight will we have passed the point of no return and lost our chance to have some piece of us carry on?  My hope is no, that you’ll read this as a vibrant youth and laugh at how silly your father was so many years ago.

I just needed you to understand that your father and I waited because we wanted you to hear our story and appreciate our struggles, but not have to live through them, all in the hopes it will make you a better person.  I hope you’ll be as proud of us for the change we tried to bring as I know we will be of you.  I hope that it will inspire you to fight for people that need it most and that in the end you realize that you deserve nothing less than your most amazing dreams.  I say this to you because if the day comes where you are reading this note, my wildest dream will have finally come true; having you.

The omelet, the cake & the slain, used as directed.

Every morning like millions of other families I make myself an omelet with some cheese and toast, as a treat maybe I’ll add some left over steak or ham to change it up.  I’m no chef but every morning I sit down and enjoy the meal I’ve made.  I appreciate it in my own way, small recognition for a skill that to some would be considered novice and by others a great accomplishment.  None the less I use my kitchen, my utensils and what I’ve learned and the outcome is my desire, my accomplishment.

Down the street from me a good friend of mine Vicky, runs a bakery.  A mere block from my house I can see the lights on every morning when I let out my dogs.  Inside at the wee hours while I’m still fast asleep Vicky makes what I can only dream of.  A magic is crafted on a daily basis with the very same tools I use to make my omelet, the end result however is something very different.  That bakery under Vicky’s wizardry makes tiered wedding cakes that reach for the heavens, with handmade decorations that almost make is seem shameful to eat.  Small cupcakes, bears claws and treats I can’t even pronounce fill a display case and wait for an eager customer to taste them.  Every morning I use my tools to make my omelet and every morning Vicky uses the very same tools to fill her bakery.

Much further away or closer I can’t be sure, in a dark place something horrible that most people can't understand is happening.  The very tools that I use every day to cut my steak or Vicky uses to slice her bread and chop fruit; those very same tools are cutting flesh.  As I smile at my accomplishment, as Vicky sells her masterpieces, some person stands over another human being and watches the life fade from their eyes and in it a murderer finds joy.  All these people stand with the same tools in hand, all these people use the tools for how they see fit, been taught or have learned, all with very different outcomes, in each of their eyes different accomplishments.

A soldier passes, inside a funeral home a family grieves, a preacher consoles them, the loss, fear, remorse and love is shared among friends and family.  Outside that same soldiers funeral protesters march, signs are held high cheering his death, touting it as god’s wrath.  Rage, hate and scorn are their lecture and the emotion they share.  All the people reacting to the soldiers death craft very different messages, preach very different sermons, the tool however, a bible, is no different.

We each choose how we use the tools provided.  The tools do not dictate us, nor the outcomes, accomplishments or results of their use.  A knife in my hand will not tear flesh, because I wield it, I am the one who holds responsibility for the work it will do.  How we choose to use the tools we are given will dictate how we and sometimes the world will be interpreted by others. 

The bible is merely that, a tool provided by a god who knew of his imperfect creations.  A book written by those imperfect creations to send his message, a message that has been adjusted for the ages, and used for very different purposes.  Does that make it wrong, or is it a test?  A tool given to humanity to see what will be created with its use.  A tool that we are responsible for in the end, a tool that’s accomplishments or failures solely rests on each of our individual shoulders.  In the end will judgement be upon how we used that tool, how we spread it's message?

One last example, walk up to a family dog and hold your hand chest high, open your palm face down toward the loyal pup.  Do this to my dogs and a tail will wag in anticipation of being pet or a well placed scratching of the ear.  Try it with another dog, a beaten dog and it will cower in retreat.   Odds are it won't be expecting a friendly pat on the head but instead something much worse.  A beaten dog will fear the hand of the kindest soul, because it only knows the pain a hand can cause.  Same tool, different result.

Take the tools at hand and do with them what you will, preach what you think, but look around and understand that many people are using that same tool to create very different things, send very different messages.  We take direction from no one but ourselves, and we will have no one to hold accountable in the end but ourselves.  When using/preaching the bible you are responsible, you are in control of what it will create or destroy, encourage or defeat.  So what is the end result when put to your hands, hate, fear or love?  Which do you think was the desired outcome of that tool?