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Happy Birthday, My Son. On August 4, 2015. It was a 90 year old poem by the time I read it in 1985. I was in an old, decrepit building, with lots of adults walking in and out, at a time long before Google, Facebook, and your favorite MineCraft. It was a place much quieter than the Church. It was a solemn sanctuary for me, a place where I could go to places without leaving my seat, excite me more than TV ever did, and inspire in me to become as inquisitive as I am today.

Anything that strikes a desire to write is written here. From simple observations to deep thoughts on a variety of subjects. Please note the Home page will display my writing in order of posting. Posted in Family and Relationships. A little background on this post before you proceed to read the note that was sent to the individual in question. Please return EVERYTHING I a.

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