Family Tree - Kings of Leon

I am not a person of faith nor superstition.

If we’re being completely honest, I’m a bit of a cynic.

I don’t believe in horoscopes or homeopathy, I’m not a big conspiracy theorist (except for JFK because Kevin Costner is the man in that movie and probably that Ted Cruz is the Zodiac Killer because….well, look at him) and if I want to go on a cleanse, I’ll just spend $20 at Taco Bell.

I don’t believe that anyone is watching over us…unless you count the NSA. Hi guys!

I don’t believe in heaven or hell.

Well, not entirely.

I believe all dogs go to heaven. Dogs are better than people and deserve a giant beach with ergonomic beds, endless chewchies and an all-you-can-eat people food buffet.

As for hell? It’s where Jeffrey Epstein is currently hanging out and pretty much everyone in the Trump Administration is scheduled to land.

I don’t believe in fate, miracles, soulmates or most anything found in Meg Ryan movies. And outside of the Maillard Reaction (the chemical reaction between animo acids and reduced sugars which results in browned, crispy deliciousness), I don’t believe any mystical enchantments - no ghosts, guardian angels, demons or non-dairy cheese worth eating.

My belief system is basically a loose pastiche of the three Bs - Bruce, Bourdain and Bukowski.

So far, it’s served me well but there are things floating amidst the dust motes and ether that make me think maybe, just maybe, there are more things in heaven and Earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in my philosophy.

Hey Will. It’s Mom.

Meet your family.

Every single person pictured here loves you so much.

This was taken when Mommy and Daddy got married - less than a year before you were born and this picture fissures my strongly held notion that there isn’t something greater than us out there.

I want you to take a second and think about everything that had to happen for this picture to even exist.

Your family spans continents - from Italy to Scotland to the Netherlands to Uganda to India to the UK to the USVI. Journeys of thousands of miles starting with a few bold steps west.

Your family spans decades as all do but think about it.

Mommy and Daddy met in high school and the last time we talked was probably in May 2001 at graduation.

Twelve years later, we go on a date where we share mediocre tacos and overpriced margaritas and eight years after that? I’m sitting on our couch, absently twirling a wedding ring on my finger and writing to our son who we’ll meet in a little over three short months.

Think about everything that had to happen - all of the tumblers that had to click and lock into place - for this picture to be taken and for all of these people to be in the same room at the same time celebrating coming together.

Think about all of the people involved, the miles traversed, the decisions made.

All of that culminating in you.

Your mama, who doesn’t believe in anything greater than the power of music, cold gin cocktails and that cheese plates should replace cakes as the favored food of celebration, believes that can’t be a coincidence.

That you were meant to be. Meant to our son, meant to be born during an insane time in American history, meant to do great things.

I believe in you, William John and I cannot wait to see how far you’ll go.

See you soon.

We love you xx