Friday, December 7, 2012

Tired But Not Tired Of It

To my son Tommy,

Tomorrow is a holy day of obligation, so you and I hit the vigil mass tonight.  Halfway through you fell asleep.  You morphed into a mixture of a sweat box, a limp noodle, a heavy bag of rocks, a fart factory, and a leech.  But the way you rested your head on my shoulder and had your hands wrapped around hugging my neck was heart warming to say the least.  Your great uncle Jim saw me struggling with the dead weight, smiled, leaned over and said "You may get tired but you never will get tired of it."  He of course was completely right.  I may feel like my arms are going to fall off and my back give out as I switch you from one side to the other for the twentieth time,  but for the closeness and love felt with a single content sigh from my sleeping boy, I would not trade a single moment of the struggle.

Sincerely with love from your dad,

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