...how sorry can I be.
Remember, we get to think about stuff. Zack's bear also made this helpful graphic:
"think mOAr thotS" Nick must've helped him with the spelling.
Think more thoughts.
Zack went down to feed the cats the other morning. He had his bear, Bear-Bear, under his arm and set him down to get the food and then left him there. Face down on the cement. It looked like a crime scene and, sadly, my first thought was to orange chalk a circle around the poor guy and tell Z there's been an incident. I picked the old fellow up and was trying to console him as best one can an inanimate object. I looked at his face.
I little piece of foil, a wrapper or tinsel or something, stuck to his face like a tear. And I wondered if I'd feel as sad when someday I realized that the boys might forget me for a moment. It was an overwhelming notion and I let my thoughts go with it. Fathers and sons, sons and fathers.
Thanks for coming 'round again. I suppose you'll flit off to some other cyberstop. Cool. Hey, don't forget to think. Look deep into yourself. You're allowed.
You're supposed to.