For 18 years, my son received a mysterious envelope every birthday—when he finally opened the last one, he discovered who had been sending them all along

it to you once you become an adult.

You do not know me the way you think you might. But I knew someone who loved you very much.

I hope, in some small way, these birthdays helped you feel remembered.

Take care, son.

Thomas.

I read it twice. Then a third time.

“Take care, son.”

Adrian had noticed those words too.

“You see why I thought of my dad, right?”

Of course continue reading …