Raining and Thinking

Spent the morning with my son going to the doctor, picking up drugs for him, breakfast. Even though he is sick, he still is the smartest and funniest person I know. I dare say he is my hero. He is 11, a natural born athlete- amazing soccer skills & speed + he can run like Forrest Gump, never made less than an A in school, whitty as hell, a goodlooking boy, the littlemans got the whole package. And whats so great is he naturally does his best. I don't have to push him, live my life through him, etc. He's got heart. Heart is rare in America today. I used to have it, but alcohol pickled mine, then somehow it got squashed in the mud. Yes, I'm searching for it and when I find it, I'll clean it off and cram it back where it belongs. I ramble, back to him. He is my hero, my light, my will to carry on. For him I am grateful.