Right before my fortieth birthday, Leyla asked me if I could pick up a couple of her friends for their eighth-grade cross-school dance, which she told me was being held in Redwood City, California. I agreed to Dad driving duty in the minivan.
There’s a video of me walking these girls into what I believed was the dance venue, but was actually my surprise fortieth birthday party, which Aisha had spent considerable energy orchestrating and executing to perfection with the help of my then-longtime assistant, Angela. I look shocked and confused at the sight before me. There, in this huge, man-cave-looking room that Aisha has picked out, were a collection of people from all different walks of my life. There were former Starbucks executives, who were now CEOs at big East Coast companies. There were high school friends. My mom was there in person and my dad joined us on a video call. My kids. The people I work with today and those I worked with twenty years ago. It was incredible to look around the room to see a high school friend talking to a Starbucks executive; a member of my MBA class talking to the Symantec executive; and a Google Ventures senior partner talking to my old neighbor in San Francisco. It was a cross-section of my entire life up to that point, and represented all of the crazy, unforeseen twists and turns I have taken.
For as phenomenal as my career has been and with all of its ups and downs, none of it was by design—at least not my design. I was ready, willing, and happy to be a stay-at-home dad. Often, I even found myself as a somewhat reluctant participant in a career ascension that has gone insanely fast, despite the fact that, for a long time, I never wanted the top job. There were highs and lows, expected and unanticipated events, and, at times, great happiness and great adversity.
Looking back on my life so far, I’ve made it this far because I was honest, cared about the people I was working with, and wanted to do the right thing.
More important than any of this are my seven kids. Well, I should actually adjust that number. Aisha and I never had an “ideal” amount of kids we wished to have, but always agreed that we would keep having kids until we were forty or so. As I am writing this book, I am forty-three years old; in the midst of this process—just as we had finished donating the last of our cribs and high chairs and baby clothes—we found out that our eighth baby was on its way. Isaac was born in early April 2019 and was Aisha’s first C-section. She was in labor for more than twenty hours before the doctors decided to get the little guy out. Isaac is a perfect baby and, while he likes to cry and be held, what else can you expect from the final of eight kids? When Isaac had his first doctor checkup, the nurses commented about how opinionated he was at only a few weeks old. He fought against them holding his leg for a shot and very much exuded a don’t-mess-with-me vibe.
We named Isaac after the biblical story of Isaac, which means “laughter.” According to scripture, Isaac was a miracle child, born to Abraham and Sarah in their old age. When they found out they were having a child, they laughed. He is just another reminder that there are wonderful surprises around every corner, if you’re just willing to let life take its course. Gabriel will now get to be an older sibling, too, and I’ll have to upgrade the truck’s license plate to Oregon8.
People often ask Aisha and me what it’s like to have so many kids (or they ask if we’re Mormon or devout Catholic). We’re not exactly your “normal” family in this day and age, especially in Silicon Valley. I often joke about our “annual baby” and that, for once, I would like to buy a new car without instantly having to strap two car seats in the back. But, of course, of all of the blessings in our life, our children are by far the greatest.
I love that our kids get to have this experience of being a part of something so big—of having so much support. As a parent, it is an indescribably rewarding experience. It has kept Aisha and me young, active, and engaged. For almost twenty years now, we’ve been constantly starting over in the best way. Each and every kid has taught me something new about myself. Each child has shown me the incredible range of life and personality and beauty and wonder. Each kid reminds me of what it feels like to fall head over heels in love.
And, of course, at the heart of everything I’ve been lucky enough to experience and to have over the course of the past twenty-five years is Aisha. Through the most beautiful and wonderful times in our lives to the most difficult, we have been inseparable. We are in love, but it’s so much more than that. Aisha and I are proverbial soul mates; it’s only together that we’ve been able to achieve all of this. She has had a direct hand in every single thing I’ve done in life, both personally and professionally. Without her, I may have done some interesting and important things, but I would never have pushed myself to get where I am today. Without her, none of it would be worth as much, either. I wouldn’t hesitate to cash in the love and camaraderie the two of us share for anything—our connection transcends economic wealth, world travel, and being on the cover of magazines or any material things. There is no comparison.
I can only hope that my kids find the same love in life. I hope they can experience true love, stay close to their faith, and have a full life, in all of its brevity and glory. This does not mean everything has to go right, but it does mean they have to be present, brave, and resilient. Life will throw all kinds of things at them, just as it does to all of us. It will take them to the highest peaks and then bring them down to the lowest valleys. It will have detours that bring unimaginable experiences. It is my hope that they remember our family, our lives together, and our faith. I pray they can find strength in each other when it is needed. I hope they can be patient and loving, help those in need, and make sure that they find and make the time for the most important things in this journey of life. If there is any gift in our eight children, it is that they will always have each other.
As I write these pages, I find myself in the best chapter of life yet. I love our family and I love what I get to do for a living. I know that my best days are ahead of me, rather than behind me. I am not sure that everyone my age can say that.
In yet another case of serendipity, as I was writing this book, my dad reminded me of the rainbow he and I had seen all those years ago when we drove up to Eugene, looking for a new home for our family.
“I made a mistake, Stephen,” he told me. “When we were driving up to Oregon, I thought that rainbow was my blessing for moving to Oregon and starting our new life there. Now that I’ve seen what you’ve done with your life, I realize it was actually your rainbow.”