A New Year’s letter to my son

 

Bill Knight column for1-4, 5 or 6, 2021

 The old saying “It’s always darkest right before the dawn" is wrong. Speaking as an early-morning guy, I can testify that the darkest moments come a while before sunrise, which is preceded by a long, slow, methodical brightening.

And “balance”? There’s no guarantee that “things will all come out even.” Sure, some have the knack of having basketballs teeter on fingertips or seeing budgets work out, but it’s not easy or certain. And, OK, there’s the Newtonian maxim that for every action there’s an equal and opposite reaction.

But that’s physics, not fate.

I’ve been writing you these annual letters since 1994, and every one was a special slice of time. However, this time is unique. Dominated by discord, frustration and grief, 2020 also will have memories ranging from pleasant surprises to irrepressible joy.

Two of the most overused nouns in journalism are “grind” and “warrior,” so I won’t use them about last year, a dismal time of deadly disease and reckless, feckless leaders fracturing so much of the world.

People are divided and the rise of the Right wing has resulted in plots to kill leaders and in violence; jobs and lives were lost, including more than 340,000 Americans dying from COVID-19; George Floyd and too many victims of police shootings resulted in understandable unrest; government and business suffered cyber-attacks; live music and movies and schools and sports and contact and community all were curtailed; volcanos,  hurricanes, wildfires and effects of climate change caused untold harm; bombings and acts of war threatened thousands; locusts and murder hornets swarmed; innumerable events were indefinitely postponed, from family funerals to weddings, as you know.

But…

You became a dad, maybe an everyday miracle, but a miracle nonetheless.

And somehow, enough people helped each other – nurses, doctors, scientists, first responders, and other essential workers throughout society, plus so many regular neighbors – that progress happened, too.

Plus, technology permitted virtual visits and your household juggled family leave and remote work with all its pressures and drudgeries, successes and satisfaction in teaching and touching people. All that hinted at the light to come, the mutual support and common bonds and bright smiles often obscured in the darkness.

Still, even with a vaccine and reopened businesses and Spring Training and the rest, 2021 won’t “make up” for 2020. But there’s a valuable perspective that emerges with parenthood – particularly fatherhood: It requires tenderness and toughness.

In fact, before I became your dad, I mostly took life and love for granted, not really, fully appreciating what it meant to not have them. Maybe you were prepared for fatherhood; maybe you’re realizing the bounty before you, the promising possibilities in the future as your child started crawling, taking steps, showing personality in not-quite-word sounds, delightful expressions and already-effective gestures, and you completing a circle of sorts, reading to your kid, and showing how to be kind, honest, respectful and fun.

Perhaps rekindled feelings of freedom, faith, hope, love and justice together offer glimpses of brighter days and years.

Last year was dark, but I’m immensely glad for the here and now and you and endless potential ahead.

We can’t rush it, but it is getting sunnier, moment by moment.

Love,

Your Pop