When you were sick this week, a lot of folks expressed their concern, but one good friend of mine called - Steve.
Steve and I play golf together every Sunday morning. We call it our "church." We have known each other for 15 years, and discovered that we have a lot in common than golf.
We both love books, and reading. When I lost several thousand books in a flood it was Steve who mourned with me.
Our political views are similar, and a few other views of life.
When I met your mom, Steve was skeptical, but then your mom, Steve, his wife Anne, and I went to dinner. A more natural group of friends is hard to find. Steve's wife Anne, like your mom, is an intelligent, articulate, worldly lady.
The first time we went out to dinner, without you, was with Steve and Anne, as was the second time. When I had my last birthday, and your mom took me to Tarbell's there were two other place-settings - she asked if I knew who was coming: on a napkin I wrote down my guess - Steve and Anne.
When we play golf, and sometimes when paired up with a father-son, I look at Steve and tell him that I look forward to when you join our golf group. And I look forward to when you outdrive your dad by a lot on the golf course. By the way, we might give you a few putts, but don't expect any strokes. And we play for quarters, so bring your piggy bank when you come to play with us.
It is nice to have good friends, son. Your Uncle Steve is a good one. Oh- and don't focus on your long-drives in golf - you will beat them all with your putting and your short game.
Love,
Dad
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