Baba, now that your ears have grown, hear me well.
When I first took you in my arms, I remember feeling the burden of fatherhood take over my body so intensely that I thought I would drop you. As soon as my skin touched yours, I was overcome with tremors and shook throughout your feeding. When you finally fell asleep, your chest rising and falling decisively, I realized you were truly alive and mourned my life that was now yours.
I haven't much to teach you, for life isn't done teaching me. I hold only 3 beliefs for you, son:
First, believe that pain is wise and worth giving up to. It teaches patience, so be open to learning when you are hurt.
Second, believe that no one can bully the future. The winds of chance are as strong as the winds of change - both are certain, both are inevitable.
Third, do not believe me because I am your father, or you will lose yourself in the parts of me entangled with the parts of you.
