Dear Kyrie,
First off, I just want to tell you I love you. I don’t tell you that nearly often enough, even though I tell you every time I talk to you. I love you, I love you, I love you. Infinity times infinity.
Wow. I can’t believe you turn 13 years old today! I can remember a discussion I had with your mom when you were about 2 years old, and how we thought that the teenage years were so far away that it was laughable.
We’re not laughing now.
Here you are, on the verge of leaving your childhood behind, and embarking on the journey of adolescence. There are a lot of tough times ahead. For you, for me, for your mom, for everyone. The teenage years are just tough, there’s no way around it. You will break hearts, and you will have your heart broken. You’ll make a lot of really good decisions, and some really bad ones, too. You’re going to screw up. You’re going to make mistakes. But you’re also going to learn, grow, and prosper. The questioning, exploring, and adventurous spirit that you inherited from me is going to start blooming, and you will strive to expand your horizons and move beyond your boundaries. Sometimes this will be a good thing, other times, not so much. No matter what, I will always love you and treasure you. Never forget that; it will help you get through the tough times, and make the good times even better. I was barely out of my teenage years myself when you were born, and I remember them well.
Do you have any idea who I was before you arrived? I was a spoiled, selfish little brat, that’s who I was. Before you came along, I wallowed in darkness. I didn’t care who I hurt, or what I did to people. I cared about what I did to myself least of all. I had no responsibility, and I liked it that way. I had forgotten whatever sense of right and wrong, justice and honor, or anything else “positive” that your grandparents had taught me. I was a real jerk. As I said: A spoiled, selfish little brat.
I would love to be able to say that it was your birth that changed me, because if this were a novel, that’s the way it would happen. If this were a fairytale, then that first moment when I held you would have been so powerful and magical that it would have straightened me right out. I would have been so consumed by love and devotion that I would have cast aside all of my foolishness, and I would have become the perfect father instantaneously. Alas, it didn’t happen that way. Your birth set me on the path, but I still had (and still have) a lot of work to do in order to become the kind of dad you deserve.
You deserve the best, because you are the best.
For your whole childhood, I have marveled at your spirit, your sensitivity, and your kind heart. You love so deeply, so freely, and so openly. Your compassion is legendary among all those who know you, especially me and your mom. You always care for and protect those who are weaker than you, and you are not afraid to stand up to those who are stronger than you. This makes you a true spiritual warrior, and I am so proud of you!!
I am constantly amazed by your strength and willpower. I have seen you tackle problems and setbacks that would have brought some adults to their knees in shame and frustration. You never shrink from a challenge or shirk your responsibilities. Your innate raw power is like a hurricane or tornado: beautiful, and yet terrifying. Nothing, and nobody, dares stand in your way. I admire you for that. I want to be like you when I grow up! 
Over the next few years, you will stop expecting me to lead you, and start exploring on your own. You won’t want me to hold your hand and point you in the right direction anymore. You’ll listen to me less and less, and to your friends more and more. That’s OK…it’s the way the world works. My only hope is that I have given you a solid enough foundation to build your dreams upon. I hope that I have given you the tools necessary to know right from wrong, good from evil, and truth versus lies. I hope you remember all the good times that we had together. Of course, we still have a lot of good times ahead of us, but there will be times when you will be tempted to think that they don’t matter very much…that *I* don’t matter very much. Gone are the days when you thought your daddy could make the sun set on demand, or that a kiss could make the pain go away. You’ll even stop believing that I have the power to call the breeze on a hot day, or keep you warm on cold nights with magic. However, there is one thing that I hope you never forget.
Promise me that you’ll never forget that day at the beach in Chicago. Do you remember how I sat down in the surf with you, and told you to catch some water in your tiny hand? I asked you how many drops of water you held. You replied, “I don’t know. A bunch?” To which I replied, “Yes, baby. A bunch.” Then I guided your gaze upwards, so that you could look out over Lake Michigan. “How many drops of water do you think fill up this whole lake?”, I asked. Your eyes got very big, and you said “A whole, whole, whole BIG bunch!”
And then I told you that I loved you more than all the drops of water in Lake Michigan. All you said was “Wow, that’s a lot, daddy,” but you smiled really big, and you hugged me tight. I hope you never forget the way I made you feel that day. I know I’ll never forget the way *you* made *me* feel that day.
I love you more than anything, more than everything. Happy Birthday, kid.
Love always,
Daddy