Last week, I touched on the very heavy topic of gun violence. Your emails really resonated with me, and I appreciate the outreach. Now I think we all could use a break from the tough stuff. So this week, I'm writing a short, lighthearted love letter to my husband, in honor of Father's Day. (And not just because I have no real plans or present in mind.)
I rarely write about Alex. I tend to write about my struggles, and he’s not one of them. He’s a prince among men: a champion civil rights lawyer and an outstanding husband, friend, and father. He’s confident, competent, and outgoing enough for the both of us. And he makes me laugh.
I'm blessed to have been raised by an amazing dad, who remains a constant force for good in my life. Alex's father, too, is first-rate: We’ve both had great role models. But watching Alex invent his own brand of fatherhood has been one of my greatest pleasures. He’s a joiner. He coaches every softball team, hangs around by our fire pit while the kids make s’mores, and gets in the pool when they swim. I’m the opposite. I drop the girls off at games, ask them to bring my s’more in the house, and haven’t been in a bathing suit in years. Alex is showing our girls the world while I watch from our couch, anxiously texting to ask what time they’ll be home.
Happy Father’s Day to all fathers and father figures who are celebrating, or being celebrated. And for those who struggle to find joy in the holiday, for whatever reason, I send you moral support. You can reach me any time, at andrea@time.com.
Best,
Andrea
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