I was recently digging through a desk drawer and stumbled across a handwritten note from my son, Tommy, written in 1994 at the age of seven.
He and my wife had flown to Oklahoma for my mother-in-law’s surgery. Tommy wrote, “I am having a good time in Oklahoma City. And on Monday night my stomach hurt and I got sick. And the next night I got sick. And every night I got sick. And I didn’t get sick on Wednesday night. And I’m missing you very very much daddy. Love, Tommy” (Don’t you know that did my heart good?!)