Perspective

My son called me this morning... when the phone rings at 7:30 you just know it's him, he knows I'm up early.

I miss him on daily basis... think about him all the time. We hang up with "I love you, too" and I mean it with every fibre of my being.

Then, sometimes, I remember what a slug he was when he lived at home.

His messy bedroom... his rolled-up socks in the laundry basket... his grunts by way of conversation...

What was I thinking?

(He says he finds comfort in the sky... that's my boy...)