Roby fought off being born on Friday the 13th, she skirted by with a little over an hour. J--- let it get even closer, from what I understand. It was a matter of minutes for him, and he wasn’t threatening a Friday the 13th, just the 13th in May, it’s a good day. 

I was so excited to talk to Jack about being a father. He was busy, obviously, and it took a day to get ahold of him and when I did...I didn’t have much to say. It’s not a thing you can really talk about. It’s just sort of a...huh...now you know what that’s like, quite a thing, eh?

I think the best things in life are that way: incapable of being talked about, beyond words, beyond conversation.

Fatherhood changed me for the better, and continues to do so. Every day I feel polished by the experience, advanced and more unerstanding and understood by myself and by the universe itself. It has been a Good thing, Good with a capital G.

I’m more than curious to see how it improves Jack, a person who, to me, is incredibly aspirational. I look up to that fool, his work ethic, his thoughtfulness, his life, his faith. I’m not married to the man, I know not his heart, but what I do know of it, I love. Tough to imagine a great bredth of improvements to be made there, but made they will be, such is the nature of this growth, if you let it bloom. 

I’m sure he will,
he’s no fool, and if he is, he is in the best way.