Thursday, 23rd may. Last letter to a 9 year old
I was looking through pictures for today’s letter and I chose this cute little baby. The picture is taken in 1961. And it is me. When you were 6 months old I took a similar picture of you. Boy, we sure looked similar at 6 months.
This time next week when I write to you, you will be 10 years old. I will look for pictures of me at 10. Ten was a big year for me. My whole life changed. I am hoping, in a different way, it will be a big year for you too.
On your birthday, although we cannot talk or see each other because of Amlot/Adler and O’Leary’s great win in family-court, I will have a birthday party for you. And raise a glass to toast the hope that next year, for your 11th birthday you will be with me.
Today I am writing from a coffee shop in Costa Mesa. Before my dentist appointment. Ouch. No one likes going to the dentist, but I have too because having nice teeth is so important.
The second picture is from this day in 1999. Twenty years ago. I was 38. Wallace was just a little bambino. He was the cutest dog imaginable. The picture was taken by Emma, who was my girlfriend then and Wallace’s mummy. She was super nice, and when she left, she decided to leave Wallace with me. Because she knew I had qualities to offer that she could not, having a job that meant she had to go to an office every day. That was so thoughtful and selfless. And it worked out so well. I always think of her with a lot of joy. Such a nice honest loving person, motivated by ethical standards more than just money. She could easily have taken Wallace to an address I did not know and emailed me with a demand for money before she would let me have him. And made me have to get a lawyer and spend lots of money in court. But she didn’t. She made a decision for the highest good. And everyone lived happily ever after.
Will write again when your ten. Have a great birthday.