After so many prayers, crying, and tears, you made me a father when I was not. I became the happiest man ever. Bandaging elbows, knees and many busted lips, I brushed away your tears. You plunged head-first for years into soccer, scouting, then theatre with a zeal unmatched. Along the way your love of space, physics, environmental science, and history allowed you to fulfil your childhood promise of working for NASA. I thought you were invincible and the world would be yours for the taking. It was after, while driving back across the country, I saw the chink in your armor. After we had the best day together we have ever had, you showed me your weakness. How could I be so blind not to recognize how deep it cut you? You switched your college major and hid behind other excuses but it was there. Eventually, you decided you could not stay here. I will never understand it. The world almost stopped when you left it. The foundations of this world nearly crumbled. No longer the happiest man ever, I cry wanting you back. Every day, but on this one especially, the 23rd anniversary of you making me a father, I miss your laugh, humor, and corny jokes. To my son, forever 21, I pray you found peace.