Dear Dad,

There’s still so much I want to share with you—so many lessons I wish I could learn from you and so many recent achievements I long to tell you about. I’m deeply sorry that I couldn’t be there with you in your final moments; that will always weigh heavy on my heart. When I think back to my childhood, I see you as someone who always knew exactly what to do and when to do it. After years of struggle, I’m finally beginning to understand the lessons you tried to teach me, and I’ve always found strength in recalling those early years filled with excitement and adventure. To me, you were—and always will be—a Speedo-clad-superhero.

My father may have made mistakes, but none were without purpose. What I cherish most about him is the legacy he has left within us. I know that the people at Tracker School—River, Celeste, and the entire crew—will continue to carry forward what you started, just as you knew they would. And I know you know I’m always here if you need me.

Few people knew you as well as I did because, in so many ways, I am just like you. While I may not have your meticulous habits or flawless penmanship, I now realize you spent our entire time preparing me for this moment.

I am T3, and I’ve been honing these skills since I could walk, passing them along daily for the past 25 years—and even before that. You saw my talent for photography and nurtured it, which continues to bear fruit.

I think back to all the spoken and unspoken lessons and remember the moment 15 years ago when I decided to leave Tracker and start my own school. I knew that staying would mean losing my own identity. Years later, when we talked about it, you told me it was tough to let me go, but you knew I had to do it for the same reasons.

I regret that there’s still so much I wanted to share with you—like the documentary I’m working on about your influence on the world of nature connection or the photo I took of a stunning sunrise in the mountains of California just days before you passed. I had planned to surprise you with the documentary, driving across the country to interview people who have started organizations or applied your teachings to their lives, making them happier and healthier. You once said you felt like an island, cut off from the rest of the world, but I don’t think you fully realized how profound your impact was. I didn’t even know it until I started teaching and saw firsthand how far your reach extended—and will continue to expand. I’m grateful for everything you’ve given me: every friend, every interest, and life. Everything I am is because of you.

As I step further into my path and power, I find it fitting that I’m finally entering a more secure place in the business world, surrounded by a community of people who live by the caretaker's way. It feels good to be among true friends again.

Thank you, Dad, for shaping me into a force of creation, here to reconnect people with the wonders of the wild. I use every method at my disposal, from online programs to in-person classes, and I am as sure of my purpose as a bee is of its duty to pollinate flowers. I spent a long time fighting my destiny, but it brought me nothing but pain. Our purpose on this earth is to be caretakers, and our individual goal is to be better than our parents—to carry forward the good and sift out the bad. I take these experiences with me every moment of every day. We can choose to be lesser than our parents, dishonoring our lineage, or strive to be better versions of them.

Dad, I promise to keep leading people back to the earth until my final walk. Thank you for everything. I feel your presence all around me and can hear your laughter in the wind. I am proud to be your son and will continue to make you and the entire Tracker community proud.

I need a few days to regroup before resuming my webinars. I’ll contact each group individually.

Please send me some strength and good energy. I’m feeling alone and sad. I miss you, Dad. Now is the time for community, more than ever.