Beloved son,
You should know how this website came to be, and why I have called it “Garland and Chain.” Actually, as with many things in life, you have Mom to thank for both.
For my first Father’s Day with you in the world, Mom gave me a gift that I hope you can give to someone else one day: She challenged me to pursue a dream of mine. For years I have wanted to do more writing—I used to do quite a bit when I was younger—but have lacked the time, platform, and motivation. Another way to say that, of course, is that I did not make the time, create the platform, or search for the motivation. Mom didn’t parse words, though; she just wanted to help me do more of what I love, so she bought me this domain for a year and told me I could do with it whatever I pleased. If you want to know about your hand in this scheme of hers, by the way, you should read the letter you wrote me for Father’s Day, which was this website’s very first page.
For some months, in fact, your letter was the website’s only page. The same writerly problems that I had faced for years still plagued me: Though I now had a platform, I still didn’t have much time, and with everything else going on in my life (you know, like hanging out with you), I didn’t have the motivation. But I had new problems, too, questions that kept my mind tied up. What kind of website should it be? What should I call it? How should it look? What types of content should I write? What tone should I strike? And the biggest head-scratcher of all: Why and for whom was I going to be writing, anyway?
So I sat with those questions—or underneath them, rather. I let their weight stop me from writing hardly anything at all. It was a classic case of overthinking. For how little people think about some things, it is amazing how far they get carried away thinking about others. Sadly, your papa is not immune to this common human ailment. I was fixated by my imaginary audience, frozen by thoughts of how my published self would be perceived.
You and Mom brought me back to reality. I knew early on that I wanted to write about fatherhood, but I didn’t know much more than that. I had brainstormed a list of possible domain names, most of which revolved around me and my experience as a dad, like “Pondering Papa,” “Daddy Diaries,” and “Raggedy Dad” (I’ll have to explain that last one another time). Then one night when Mom and I were searching for available domains, she came across a passage in Proverbs (1.8-9) that instantly clicked:
Listen, my son, to your father’s instruction
and do not forsake your mother’s teaching.
They are a garland to grace your head
and a chain to adorn your neck.
Garland and chain—the blessings of knowing your parents’ hearts. I knew right away that I wanted to borrow the poetry of that verse for my writing project, and I knew just as soon that there would be no better audience to write for than you, my precious son.
I must confess that the words “instruction” and “teaching” seemed a bit stiff to me, less affectionate than what I’d like to impart to you through my words. Truth be told, I don’t know if I have too many lessons with which to instruct you; I probably won’t have my lectures polished until you have a younger sibling or two. Still, I think that the sages of Israel were onto something profound and timeless in urging children first and foremost to listen—so urgent, in fact, that these words make it into the very beginning of Proverbs, just one verse after “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge.”
I can’t say exactly what wisdom you will find in these love letters, my dear boy. I can say, however, that I write them for you, empowered by your mother and inspired by the scriptures. Listen, my son, to these words of mine.