Waiting for the bus on Charlie’s first day of third grade and Jackson’s first day of kindergarten. (2000)
After we had been to my parent’s cabin for a week and I had gotten up on the wakeboard—at the age of forty!—Jackson brought home a poem from school that included a hand-drawn picture of me being pulled behind the ski boat, with him driving. He was eight. (2003)
When he was 17, Jackson gave me a handmade birthday card.