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A letter from a new father to his son

Two and a half months ago you were in your mother’s womb.

This article was published more than 1 year ago, information might not be accurate.

Cosmin Dzsurdzsa Montreal, QC

Two and a half months ago you were in your mother’s womb.

As I look at you now and you stare back with searching eyes I see a chain of events that so perfectly aligned to have led to you.

I remember being stranded at the train station one hot summer afternoon, planning your life with your mother after we found out that we were having you. Worrying about all the things that come with supporting another life. I mused that I would become an electrician, take up a trade. We laughed at our ideas.

I remember sitting at your mother’s side in the florescent light of the operating room, feeling the slow tingle of chills run up my spine. It was surreal. Time had slowed down and I felt as I sometimes do now that I had left my body to wander with the clouds.

I remember you crying and your mother crying and me swallowing the lump in my throat happy that you were healthy and strong.

I remember watching you sleep on the first night we brought you home and whispering to you all my hopes and dreams and that the world could be beautiful if you open yourself up to it.

I know that my mistakes will be many but I hope that they will not permanently affect you.

As I sit down to write this I feel the burden of inexperience and youth humbling me. What do I know about fatherhood, I ask myself?

I sense the thoughts and judgements of those other men who have undertaken this labor of love for decades and with several children, who might silently find fault in the naive understanding of a 24-year-old. Yet here I am.

You were the key that made it possible for me to join the sacred and ancient fraternity which is fatherhood.

One day, it is my hope that you too shall find a key and join me in this privilege.

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