I was wrong when I said there was no wolf underneath your skin.
You are magic. You are wolf. More than I ever thought possible.
Joe saw that before the rest of us. Whatever light burns within you, it burns bright, and I can’t help but want to bask in it. One day I hope you’ll see what the rest of us do. You are light, my son, my wondrous child. And I am so very happy to know you.
I expect when you finally read this letter, I’ll be waiting nervously to hear your thoughts. I’ll wonder if you’ll think I’m just a silly old man writing pretty words. Maybe you’ll laugh at me, though it won’t be cruel. Maybe you won’t be ready to see what I see. And that’s okay. We have time.
Or maybe you’ll come to me on a sunny day much like today, and you’ll look upon me in that quiet way you do. You’ll take my hand in yours and you’ll call me father. Oh, what a wonderful day that would be.
It’s getting late. The sun is setting. The door to my office is open, and I can hear Lizzie singing in the kitchen. Mark is on the front porch, drinking from a mug of spicy tea. Carter and Kelly are in the backyard. They’re laughing, laughing, laughing.
And just now, I looked out the window to see you and Joe walking down the dirt road toward the house at the end of the lane. You are smiling. And Joe is looking at you as if you are the moon itself.
I can’t think of a more perfect moment.
It’s time to bring my rambling to an end.
I’ll finish by saying this: I don’t know what the future holds, what sacrifices we must make, but I believe with all my heart and soul that my dream of joy is within our grasp, so long as we are brave enough to reach for it.
I love you all more than anything.
And I always will.
Eternally yours,
Thomas Bennett