The reason I write in my blog is to connect with people. Not just from one segment of life, but from many. Usually the focus revolves around finding your purpose, passion, and renewal.

And as part of the thread of stories I try to share experiences and observations in leadership, volunteerism, wellness, as well as some events that are simply personal experiences that fall in none of those particular categories and, might, at times, be more personal.

Today’s entry is one of those. So if the personal aspect is too much, please skip this one today. The first entry that I made a year ago was here: Happy 4th Birthday Buddy.

Here’s today’s entry…

Dear Levi,

Today marks what would have been your 5th birthday.

This year I’m home instead of on the road, and lots has changed in our life–some for the better, and other parts not so much. But we’ve learned a lot, and we’ve grown a lot. God has been really gracious with us, and me, more than I deserve I am sure.

Royce is getting to be such a great soccer player, and has become so exceptionally good at reading. At night she reads to Zoe, sometimes “illegally.” She has a little flashlight that she pulls out after we’ve turned the lights off and I often catch her continuing to read into the evening. Mom makes her stop (as she probably should) but the truth is I sneak in and give her a little thumbs up when I catch her reading and tell her it’s okay. She has such a heart for people, and an exceptional ability to communicate with others. And she’s intense, in a high-achiever way. Perhaps sometimes too intense (that’s probably from my DNA). I admire and love her passion and enthusiasm for life.

Zoe is amazing as well in her own unique way as well, she has such a compassionate heart. And is so incredibly creative. You should see (or maybe you did?) the latest “dog feeder” invention that she made out of who-knows-what materials–I can’t believe what she thinks up! I love it, every day it seems there’s a new contraption for me to scope out. Her ability to develop deep relationships and comprehend complex information is pretty amazing too. She processes so quickly, I love her ability to think thoughtfully and deeply for such a young kid.

I’m so proud of both of them, and so is Mom. And today I know we would be equally proud of you as well. I wish I knew your attributes that I could brag about, someday I’ll find out what those are specifically. I’m sure there would have been, or are, lots.

We talked about you a great deal this week, and more than ever, we miss you.

Yesterday and today, especially.

You might not know it, but Royce and Zoe each have their own “baby song”, which kind of represents them as a kid. This whole thing started with Royce, when she was in the hospital NICU as a preemie and we didn’t know whether she would live–or if she did the kind of life she would have. At many points the outlook was grave. During our daily drive to Morristown Hospital, Mom and I often would hear the song by Marvin Gaye (probably one of my favorite artists) “Aint No Mountain High Enough”, which came to symbolize our confidence and belief that everything would be okay with Royce.

Of course, we still play that song and think about those days. So, naturally, about a year ago Zoe wanted her own “baby” song that represented her! We chose, with a strong bias from Zoe, “I’ve Got a Feeling” by Black Eyed Peas!!! LOL. I think that’s hilarious. You can listen to the song, I think the lyrics are fine, but don’t watch the YouTube video–it’s a little too racy. Especially for up in Heaven. That could be awkward.

So you’re the last one without a song, and yesterday I thought we should pick a song for you on your 5th birthday. I wish you were here to help select it, but I think you’ll dig it. Unanimously we picked “I Can Only Imagine” by Mercy Me. Your mom thought of it first, I can’t tell you how much she misses you. It’s beyond words.

Some people have told us that every year this would get easier. And while time helps heal some things, it doesn’t seem true as it relates to missing you. Every year represents another year without you, and we’re both comforted and saddened as the years go by.

This evening the girls made little cupcakes for you, RoZo decorated yours–it’s the one in the middle, with all the balloon candles. And we went to play laser tag–we’ve never done it before, but the kids thought it would be something you would enjoy doing so they picked it instead of going to some princess movie, which I don’t think you would have liked as well.

There’s one project that I was supposed to do for you several years ago. It’s been on my mind, and I know I’ve been negligent in finishing it and I’m really sorry about it. This is the year. I have to do it, and I want to make a commitment to you that I’ll get it done.

Tonight, as I wrote a year ago, I hope that this message gets to you somehow and in some way. I think it will. Know that we love you so deeply, and we’re so glad that we even had you for a few hours. I wish it had been many years, but the hours and memories that have ensued are better than never having the gift of you in our lives.

Levi, here’s your “baby song.” I hope you enjoy it. Whenever we hear it we’ll think of you.

I love you buddy, no matter what.

Thursday night I was at dinner with my family; it was a gorgeous evening crisp and clean air quickly cooling by the nightfall from a warm and sunny day. Just one of those great casual evenings consisting of hangout-with-the-family time.

Royce, my seven-year old daughter, was really being quite loving with me. She kept holding my hand and looking at me, and wanting to cuddle. And, she’s my “red personality” (see www.colorcode.com) daughter who is an intense driver and go-g0-go, so this was a little unusual for her. Soon to be six-year old Zoe (who is “Blue”; intimacy, relationships, time, details) is usually the one that wants to cozy up.

Then, springing from some a quiet moment, an interesting dialogue occurred. And it went, verbatim, just like this.

Royce: “Dad, sometimes I don’t think I could marry anyone, ever.”

Me: “What do you mean, Royce? I expect you’ll get married someday! And I’m sure the guy will be amazing!”

Royce: “Well, it’s just that I love you so much, and you’re the best Dad in the world, and I can’t imagine anyone better than you! Seriously, you are the best Dad I’ve ever met. Ever! I don’t think I can ever find someone as good as you that I love so much.”

Me: “Royce, that’s is probably one of the sweetest things anybody has ever said to me, you really think I’m a great Dad?”

Royce: “Of course! You’re the best!”

Me: Thanks Royce…But, really, and I feel kinda bad about this, there are times when I don’t feel like such a good Dad to you and Zoe.”

(side note: I’m completely expecting Royce to fully refute my feelings of inadequacy as a Dad, so in retrospect I’m not sure this was quite a genuine response from me–if anything, I was probably looking for a little validation!).

So Royce continues without even a hesitation…

Royce: “Well, that’s because there are times you aren’t such a good Dad. But that’s okay, I love you no matter what and still think you’re the best Dad out there!”

And that was, perhaps, one of the most authentic, transparent, and unconditional moments of love that I’ve felt from another human being in my entire life.

I say it to my kids all the time that “I love you, no matter what”, but to hear it in the context of a very real assessment of my imperfections (because the truth was that day I wasn’t being a very lovable Dad!) made tonight’s moment something that I’ll remember for the rest of my life.

Royce, thanks for a such an authentic experience about what it REALLY means to love someone…no matter what.