You 're moments late to literally everything . You watch busses pull away as you run behind them , girls get asked out as you walk up to them , and you have never caught a green light . One day though , you arrive on time . [ WP ]

Dear Paul, 
 
 We'd planned meticulously. My wife, your mother, Sarah, god bless her, never counted on my punctuality. It had almost become a joke: if I was on time, something was wrong. The first time we met, I had been late to work, amazingly. Life often threw obstacles in my way to assure that I was late. In this all too surreal situation, knowing my predicament, I had begun working from home, so that way my tardiness was better hidden. Somehow I managed to wake up on the street, locked out of my apartment. Figures. A beautiful woman, seeing me splayed out on the street, offered me a dollar. I did n't think I looked that ragged, and I was a little insulted, but I laughed it off. She was mortified. She offered to buy me a coffee as my day seemed pretty rough. She figured I'd be waiting for a lock smith anyway. Sarah was right. 
 
 One week later we were officially dating. I was late to this realization, thinking that we were still just friends. She kissed me to let me know. 
 One year after, I had a job opening a few states away. I did n't want to leave her, but the relationship was new and my professional career was important to me. Sarah and I talked about splitting up. I was ready to call it quits, but then of all things, I was late to the plane. I stopped by to let her know I'd be staying a few more days and found her crying. That was the first time she told me she loved me. 
 Three years later and we were engaged. I was late to my own engagement: the waiter dropped the ring in the glass preemptively. She told me yes as I sat down at the dinner table. 
 Three months later and this time, she was the one that was late. 
 Within a month, we were married. I was late to the ceremony, but she had already figured out I would be. She had them play the Bride's march for me as she waited at the altar. She was clever. 
 And that brings me to the day of your birth, eight months from our marriage anniversary. 
 
 You were our everything. You still are our everything. Having watched you grow for the past 18 years has been the greatest experience of my life, even if I have been late here and there. But for once I wanted to be somewhere on time. I wanted to hold Sarah as you entered our lives. 
 At 1:00PM on August 23rd Sarah started having contractions. 
 At 1:03PM she texted me that she was heading to the hospital and that I better leave as soon as possible. We had a plan in place to account for my inability to get anywhere on time ever. 
 At 1:05PM I hopped in a taxi. 
 At 1:27PM that Taxi popped a tire. I had brought a tire jack. This was n't my first rodeo. 
 At 1:45PM we got stuck in traffic. Not easily discouraged, I got out and ran to the hospital for an hour. I watched the same taxi pass me later. 
 At 2:32PM I was stopped by a police officer for running on the highway. I explained my situation, and suddenly I had a police escort. 
 At 2:42PM a robbery call was sent in over the radio. The police officer, your godfather Frank, said he'd drop me off first and ignore protocol. 
 At 3:15PM Frank and I arrived at the hospital. I told him to leave his number at the desk while I ran in to see you and Sarah. 
 At 3:20PM I made it to the room. The doctor was telling her to push. She said she was, but said that you were n't coming. 
 
 At 3:30PM on August 23rd you were born. I held your mother as she held you. I was on time. Or at least I thought. 
 At 3:35PM on August 23rd our doctor pulled me aside and told me that this was one of the strangest births he'd ever seen. Worried, I asked why. He told me this, and I have loved you more for it every day. 
 `` You see sir,'' the doctor began, `` your baby... Everything I know about medicine says he should've been born an hour earlier based on your wife's dilation. It's as if...'' His pause scared me and I asked him to continue. The nurse decided to chime in. 
 
 `` Sir, I believe your baby was late to his own birth.'' I looked at Sarah and we smiled: you were certainly my son. 
 
 And so I wrote this note as I know I'll be late to your party tomorrow and wanted you to read this while you waited for me. Though I might not be there on time, I will always be wherever you need me to be. Happy Birthday Paul. I love you so much. 
 
 Dad 
 

