Sons

My sons are in their twenties now. It seems impossible to me that they could be men already, yet they are. They are good men.

My older son, Cory, is an artist and a laborer. He creates beautiful and stunning art with talented hands. Those hands have given life to drawings and words since he was very young. At the same time, those hands work hard through the weekdays in a lumber mill so he can take care of his family and pay the bills. He calls at least once a week and usually texts more often than that. He loves family, and he sees poetry in everything. He is a wonderful and talented man.

My youngest son, Cole, has been responsible since he was a young man. He got a job as soon as he was old enough to work. He managed passing grades while working as many hours as the law allowed for his age. He demonstated such responsibility that I signed for him get a new car when he was a senior in high school, because I knew that he would make the payments. Fastforward a few years, and he is a responsible family man, a great father and provider. His dedication to family is admirable. He is loving and kind.

The night that my grandson Dane was born, Cole was moved to tears. Looking at his son for the first time, he was finally able to understand what it means to love your child. His son will give him moments of joy and sorrow, worry and great pride. I have no doubt that, years from now, he will find his son to be a good man.

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