He knew what
shoes meant.
"Daddy, take your shoes off..."
It was an ordinary evening as a 26 year old dad of 2 young boys... except it wasn't. I'd been working all day, grinding through meetings, racing the clock. I came home to see my wife and kids for a few minutes and eat dinner, slipped on my sneakers to head to the university library to write papers late into the night.
My three-year-old son wrapped his arms around my legs. He didn't ask me to stay. He just kept saying, softly, persistently — "Daddy, take your shoes off. Daddy, take your shoes off."
He had figured it out. Shoes on meant daddy was leaving. I dropped to my knees. I hugged him. I told him I loved him, that I was working hard for him, his brother, and their mommy. And I took my shoes off in the moment as a symbol of what my heart has always struggled with as a husband, father and founder.
— Twenty years later, I'm still thinking about it.
