Letters to my son

A life worth paying attention to.

These stories began as letters to my son, Nikko. I share them here for anyone else finding their way.

Read the latest letter

Stories about fatherhood, adventure, getting things wrong, trying again, and choosing to be present for the people and moments that matter.

  • Presence
  • Family
  • Nature
  • Freedom
  • Meaningful work
  • Curiosity
My baseball days in Smyrna, Delaware. That’s me, middle row, dead center.

Letter No. 4 6 min read

Get in the Car

I was fourteen years old, sitting in a Delaware State Police troop in Dover, hat and glove in hand, wearing my dirty baseball uniform and crying.

I don’t want to raise a boy who never gets into trouble.

Read Letter No. 4

The story behind the letters.

I’m Rob. I coached competitive tennis for more than 25 years and have spent a lot of my life building businesses. These days home is Puerto Rico, with Melissa, our son Nikko, and Kai, our dog.

I started writing these letters for Nikko — the stories I want him to have, and the lessons I’m still learning myself. They turned out to be for other people too: dads, people thinking about becoming one, and anyone trying to pay closer attention to their own life.

I don’t have this figured out — that’s kind of the point.

Rob seated at home, looking down at his son mid fist-bump beside him — an ordinary, unposed moment.
Rob standing on a paddleboard in choppy, storm-lit water, a child lying on the board in front of him, beach houses in the distance.