June 7, 2005

Dear Mr. Bush,

Home two days and gone only four, I still stare at my son and marvel at how much he's changed. His face is fuller now, his legs chubby from feeding almost hourly. He holds his head up almost completely on his own now, and is starting to make gentle cooing sounds every now and again.

When you were still driving out into West Texas to drill holes in the ground, would you come back and stare at the girls? Would you wash the dust off your hands and hold them in your arms, tired from the long drive but wide awake watching them move? Would you look at their arms, chubbier and pinker than when you left, and wonder if those trips were worth it?

Because, for me, no matter how successful this trip to New York was, I can't get over the feeling that I missed something amazing with my son that I will never get back.




Blogger Thomas said...

I'm surprised you think Mr. Bush got his hands dirty when he was "working" in the oil industry.

9:05 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Help me Dude, I'm lost.

I was searching for Elvis and somehow ended up in your blog, but you know I'm sure I saw Elvis in the supermarket yesterday.

No honest really, he was right there in front of me, next to the steaks singing "Love me Tender".

He said to me (his lip was only slightly curled) "Boy, you need to get yourself a shiny, new plasmatv to go with that blue suede sofa of yours.

But Elvis said I, In the Ghetto nobody has a plasma tv .

Dude I'm All Shook Up said Elvis. I think I'll have me another cheeseburger then I'm gonna go home and ask Michael Jackson to come round and watch that waaaay cool surfing scene in Apocalypse Now on my new plasma tv .

And then he just walked out of the supermarket singing. . .

"You give me love and consolation,
You give me strength to carry on "

Strange day or what? :-)

1:06 AM  

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