My First Father's Day and What it Means

I had heard every cliché. I waved it off as misguided longing for something more. I thought it was impossible to go from a selfish being to one who would sacrifice everything for another for whom they’ve only known for less than 10 seconds.

I was wrong. Children do cause unexplainable changes.

As many of you know, I became a and today I am celebrating my first Father’s Day.

While the day itself holds no significant meaning to me—every day is a father’s day to me—it does allow me to pause and appreciate what I’ve experienced for the past five months.

I’ve got nothing poignant to say. I’ve got nothing to say that will cause your eyes to well with tears. I’m not going to choke you up.

I just have truth.

I’m happy—very happy. I love this little girl. And, at a week shy of 5 months, she’ll never know what she means to me. Ever. Not now. Not when she’s 10. Not when I take my final breath. There are stories she’ll never hear nor could understand. Just by being, she’s mended scars that I thought were mine to carry for forever and a day.

Together with her wonderful mother, who I am privileged to call my wife, I am a better man.

I was just an upstart journalist at 23 when I met Ariel. Now, nearly four years later, I have a beautiful family.

Thank you Ariel for giving me Lucy. Thank you Lucy for sharing your mom with me.

You’ve both made me better, stronger. Just by being.

I love you both.