When our son was born in 1996, I was filled with a love I’d never known before. I loved my wife and other members of our family, but this was different.We knew then (as we still know now) that our love for this being would be forever. No conditions, no restrictions, no imposed agenda. Unconditional love and support as long as I lived was the contract I made then and there. In those first days, I watched as my wife lovingly bathed him, nursed him and provided all kinds of loving care at all hours of the day and night. I would learn what it meant to be a father ― to change his diapers, to feed him in the middle of the night, to rock and hold him until he fell asleep, and to look with love deep into his eyes.Over the years, my role as a dad would shift, and I’d make my share of mistakes, but always from a place of love (even through some of my own anger or frustration) and the intention of being the best dad I could be. And I’d marvel at what a wonderful mother my wife was. We both loved our child and would do anything for him. In the ensuing years, we shared special moments with our son, including so many great one-on-one father-and-son times, family trips and times just laughing around our house about something silly.