No, nothing has changed but thought I would write something more pleasant for a change.
The holidays has meant that I am mostly spending morning, noon and night with my son. He is now 9 and growing up to be a fine, young man. We have a lot of fun together, we play together and work together. He laughs at subtleties, his smile I can imagine on his adult face and I see a gentle, caring man.
I often re-read Garrison Keillor in 'We are Still Married'. In one story he dreams of his grandchildren. 'I imagined them strong and free, curious, sensual, indelibly cheerful and affectionate, open-handed - sympathetic to pain and misery and quick in charity, proud when insulted and modest if praised, fiercely loyal to friends. When you look at the stars, you don't think small. You don't hope your descendants will enjoy your mutual-fund portfolio, you imagine them as giants on earth.'
My one ambition is to give my son that little thing called 'confidence.'
And to protect him from anyone that threatens the good man he promises to become.
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