"The morning of the last school day before Christmas break in third grade, I was walking past the O'Connors' house thinking about how much I wanted a Red Ryder BB gun when Charlie hopped out of the bushes and told me that Emma had had a 'spell' and his folks had taken her to the hospital. I listened to him tell me what had happened, and then I said, 'Charlie, I'm not going to school. I'm going to see Emma. What're you gonna do?' He looked back toward the house, then down the street toward school, threw his backpack into the bushes and said, 'I'm with you.'"

- Charles Martin, "When Crickets Cry"

I walk a line somewhere in between not yet and too late. I leave a trail of footprints for my son to follow me in the same way I chase the shadow of my father. I am my father's son, as much as I am my son's father; and that is a feeling that cannot be understated.

Although, I don't yet have kids, so what do I know?