The time for sadness is over. I know that you feel sad when I tell you it's time for me to drop you off. You don't have the words to say it. But you get grouchy. You complain. When I first had to go, leaving you behind, you said, Papa, sit down. I can hardly think about that without feeling sad, sad to the heart. I think in time you will know that I would have liked dearly to stay. I have said, many times, that I am doing everything I can to have you here a little longer. Papa is doing everything I can, you repeated. One thing I am glad for, to be honest, is that I am not bitter with sadness. I believe in the truth. One day you will see the truth, as you already know it.
Still, we have a few days to go before some good things are going to happen. I was confident, to a very good degree. I am confident, since technically speaking, we are still waiting. In the meantime, we wait. So I know when you are unhappy. I think about you very much, darling. You are, in some ways, more loved than many dear children in this strange, hard little world. One day I will tell you all about that; and perhaps you will understand that our little unhappinesses are the kind of thing that we can totally accept.
I want you to know that wherever I go, I think of you, and I think in some ways, wherever you go, you think of me too. That is enough. Well, very shortly, anyway, I think I can tell you some good things. So I dare believe, the time for sadness is over. Maybe there will be time for remonstrations. I'll leave that to you. I am thirty nine years old, darling. I don't have time for stupid people, cynical people, self-centred people, or people who lie. I like to say quietly to myself, I'm not the guy that's going to teach you. And so I move on.
You will enjoy living with me, bobo. I don't flatter myself with these words. There are many things I do which you clearly love doing, or at least, sitting alongside when I do. And you have the ability, a true quality, of entertaining yourself. I hope you will have a classic childhood, darling. That is the least I can offer you. You will see two different patterns of guiding. In time you can come to your own conclusions.
Hope is a wonderful thing. I have it, in spades, in buckets. Things have gone steadily upwards this year for me, with you, and with some others I think of fondly. I will sing happy birthday, with you, for Papa, soon.
