Where's the Love that Has Not Forsaken Me

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A mad rush here in Fuzzy land this weekend.

On Wednesday my wonderful sister-in-law flew down to North Carolina. On Thursday my two wonderful sisters-in-law brought the kids up. John, Farrah and Rocco got out of the car a few hundred feet from my brother John's home and they ran through the grass to where we were standing. Of course John and I lifted them off the ground and hugged them so tightly.

Yet there was no time for a long drawn-out scene. Johnny had a ticket to the football game and my boys were waiting for them in our driveway where my beautiful wife was ready to whisk them the last mile to the game.

I just had to drive Johnny the 15 miles or so.

"Is Bruce still singing?" he asked me as he sat down.

My heart leaped in my chest.

"Wanna' hear some?"

"Yep!"

I played him American Land, of course, and then he wanted to hear the new songs. He just kept tapping his feet.

I had planned my seeing him again. I scooped all of the wheat pennies I'd been saving for him over the last six months.

Jeff loved wheat pennies. He'd sift through the penny jars at the convenience stores until he found them.

"I have a whole bunch of these," Johnny said.

I filled his hands with a lot more.

We chatted back and forth about everything. The distance hasn't been that great because we've all kept in great touch and Johnny and Sam play video games together on the headset.

"I can't wait to run in the tournament on Sunday," he said.

"It's going to be a blast."

"I know, I can't wait."

I rubbed the top o9f his head about seven times as we drove. The big brown Fuzzy eyes stared back at me.

Bruce was singing from We Take Care of Our Own.

Where's the love that has not forsaken me?

I found some of it, Bruce.

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