JEREMY:

I think I'm getting better. Because I'm not happy that you're sad. I miss you. Not who you are right now, but who you used to be, who you really are.

I pray that you quit hanging out in places like this, smoking yourself to death. I want you to feel the joy of raising your baby boy, who will be here in a few weeks.

It kills me inside to know that you are hurting. But we can't follow you.

I hope that someday you will heal, and find happiness in the simple things you used to love. Like watching the boys play.

And woofing down a big greasy burger, or two!

And watching the Seasons change.
I want you to find all of these things again. But I can't find them for you. You have to use your own eyes, your own heart. Then and only then can we share them.
Be Blessed All,
PJ