A letter to my last child
By Matthew Gagnon
I never really wanted to be an old father. I, being the last child born of my parents, know first hand how difficult and complicated that can be.
By the time I was in Little League, my father was already 55 years old, and didn’t really have a lot of time or energy to go play catch or go to the cages. When I graduated high school, he was almost 64 years old, and was very much showing the signs of his aging. In 2006, when my wife (your mother) and I got married, he was 71 years old.
Being the son of older parents, and knowing the drawbacks, made me somewhat obsessive about having a family young. I wanted to be involved, volunteer, and help my children learn to play sports, and all the classic parenting responsibilities without being hampered by a body (or mind) that was failing me.
Thus, our first child was born in early 2007, and today he is a senior in high school and about ready to go off to college. Your brother was born seven years later — or as I like to say, when it was financially responsible to have another one. Your sisters followed quickly, in 2016 and 2018.
At that time, we felt like we were probably done having kids. I wasn’t exactly young in 2018, but I wasn’t all that old either, and it felt like a perfect time to call it quits. Your mother had four hard pregnancies, and we both felt like her body had taken about all it could take as well. Our family seemed, at that point, to be what it would forever be.
Yet if I’m being truthful, deep down I wasn’t done and wanted one more. I wanted a large family, obviously, but for some reason I had always sort of “felt” like I would end up having five.
Interestingly enough, when your youngest sister was born, your mother had originally planned to have the doctors do a surgery that would prevent her from having more children. But one look at the newest baby we had, and she reconsidered, “just in case.”
Flash forward six years — six! — and you, William, are here, the “just in case” that we both wanted to have.
You were born just before Christmas, the ultimate Christmas gift, at a time when I had just turned 44 years old. This makes me just a hair older than my own father was, meaning that I will, in fact, be an old dad after all.
One thing you should know, though, is that I do not regret that, nor do I fear being that. Quite the contrary, as I have been a young father, completely out of my element and making it up as I went along, then transitioning to an experienced and knowledgeable parent with some years under my belt. Now I get to play a new role, and I plan to make sure that I will be just as involved, just as energetic, and just as there as I have been for your siblings.
Interestingly enough, your life is already starting to look a lot like mine. You were born in December, the last of many children with a big distance between you and the next oldest. You will know what it is like to have a lot of siblings, and eventually what it is like to be something akin to an only child after you turn 12. You’ll probably be a bit of a troublemaker and a clown, and get into your fair share of trouble, taking advantage of my (and your mother’s) “pick your battles” attitude.
Plus, we now know when to allow you to get into your own trouble, so there will probably be times when you think we aren’t paying attention, but we actually are, allowing you the space to figure things out without us. Perhaps the greatest gift of older parents, I have learned.
If you are curious about your name, by the way, you should know that choosing it was — just like with your siblings — not easy. We chose William for many reasons, first and foremost because your mother has a rich history of the men in her family being called William, and my family has a few as well. It is also a strong name, whether you are talking about William the Conqueror or William Wallace. It is the name of creative geniuses like William Shakespeare.
You’re only three weeks old, but we can already tell you are going to live up to the name, and we are very glad you are here with us.
Gagnon of Yarmouth is the chief executive officer of the Maine Policy Institute, a free market policy think tank based in Portland. A Hampden native, he previously served as a senior strategist for the Republican Governors Association in Washington, D.C.