What I Whisper Before Bed
— Nicholas Peters
Most nights, before I go to sleep, I think about each of you. Not in a dramatic way — just quietly, while the house is still.
My dear Kaitlyn, Caleb, and Brady,
Most nights, before I go to sleep, I think about each of you. Not in a dramatic way — just quietly, while the house is still.
I do not have a magic formula for keeping you safe. I cannot promise life will always be gentle. But I can promise you this: I am always pulling for you. In my own way, I am always hoping whatever is good and greater than us is watching over you.
I hope you are protected — not from every hard thing, because hard things are how you grow — but from anything that would break what is best in you.
I hope you find wisdom — the kind that knows the difference between what is urgent and what actually matters.
I hope you are surrounded by the right people — friends who tell you the truth, a partner who chooses you every day, mentors who see what you cannot yet see in yourself.
I hope your hearts stay soft. The world will try to make you hard. Do not let it. Stay tender toward the people in front of you.
And long after I am gone, I hope you still feel this — the way a father loves his children, even in the quiet moments, even across the years.
Love,
Dad