Gut Rumbles
 

March 31, 2004

A letter to my son

Dear Quinton,

I probably am breaking the law for sending this letter, but I donít care. I love you with all of my heart and I think about you every day. I wish you would call me, but I really donít expect that to happen. Mama keeps you pretty busy, doesnít she?

You are my pride and joy, son. I may not be a perfect man, but Iíve always tried to be a good father to you. I taught you to throw a football and how to shoot a free-throw from the edge of the driveway. I was proud of the way you responded to the lessons. Jack comes over almost every day to ask me when youíre coming back to visit. He likes doing that kind of stuff, too.

I donít know when Iíll see you again, Quinton, Iím in a court battle right now, and if worse comes to worst, Iíll be leaving the country for a while. If I leave, understand one thing. Iím not doing it because I donít love you. I will ALWAYS love you. I wish that you were here with me today.

But thatís not my choice to make with the plate laid out in front of me. Iím being asked to eat gruel or get up from the table. Buddy, you know me well enough to know what Iíll do when given that kind of choice. You can shove that gruel where the sun donít shine and IĎll eat the table first.

I hope to see you sometime soon.

Love-- and I mean that with all my heart--Daddy