¨You don't look at me like you used to. I'm not your hero anymore. I miss being a good father.

I remember chasing you to my car. You were 3 years old, and went 5 steps for my one. I wrapped a jacket around you, and then we headed out. The streets were quiet, well past your bedtime. No cars. No noise. You kept a smile hidden underneath your hands, cause you knew this was a privilege you'd rarely see again. I leaned over, waiting at a stop light, turned towards you and felt your forehead move up to my lips. We passed house after house till there were none left to pass. I felt my eyes adjust from street lights to only my car's head lights. The only thing we saw for miles were hills, trees, and mountains. I found it. Your head resting against the window so perfectly I thought about never waking you up. I parked on the far side of the field. Away from the road. The cars. The noise. I opened my door and stepped out. The fresh air gave me confidence. I looked back and saw your heavy eye lids slowly open up. There it was. You let out a calm whisping noise after taking in the fresh air. I ran over to your door and swung it open. My arms pulled you from the seat as you swung your arms around my neck. I kissed your cheek. I turned off the headlights and closed the door, leaving us in the only light that night. The moon. I could hear crickets. I let you slide lightly down to your feet. While inside the car my hands fell upon an old CD. I picked it up and saw it clearly. It was perfect. The CD slid in to the player and I turned up the volume. I carried you to the middle of the field, and as the trumpets blew and Sinatra's voice rang out I taught you how to dance. We laughed and danced until the whole album ended. I danced for you. Because I loved you and because I knew that you would never dance so carefree and uninhibited. When you are 14 and you go to your first dance: you will be so self conscious. When you are 17 and you're dancing at prom: other things will be on your mind. When you are 23 and you're getting married: all eyes will be on you for that first dance with the only man whose love will ever compare to what your daddy feels toward you.

When I get that second dance, I hope you remember that field and I hope you remember Frank Sinatra. I hope you remember standing on my feet when you couldn't keep up. I hope you remember the audience of trees cheering you on while you moved around that makeshift grass dance floor with me. I hope you remember how beautiful you are. I hope you remember how perfect you will always be to me. I know I have done an awful job of reminding you lately. I know you are confused and I know you are unhappy with everything that's going on. I hope you remember that I love you.

I thought I knew love until I held you as you took your first breath, D. You'll always be my angel.¨
You are simply the best. Heavenly writing.