thankful

Our visit with Brandon went very well. It's the travel time that kills, and Bran was commenting on the people that drive half an hour to get to the prison complaining about gas prices. When I told him I wish we were half an hour away he said fewer visits make it more special. He's growing up, my boy. He looked trim and tanned, lots of yard and less food-which for him is ok. I could finally picture him sitting in the backyard with his dad smoking a cigar and making kielbasi. That's a good thing, I think. I really didn't let myself think too much about the future the first half of his incarceration-just too long to hope. But now, I do. He asked for Kierkegaard when I mentioned books. Also good. I do hope he keeps reading. And his spirits stay strong, as does his health.